


Rise of a Pirate Queen

by Aleph (Immatrael), EarthScorpion



Series: Ascensions and Transgressions [7]
Category: Exalted
Genre: F/F, Role-Playing Game, Roleplay Logs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-03
Updated: 2018-03-03
Packaged: 2019-03-23 10:11:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 14
Words: 98,302
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13785285
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Immatrael/pseuds/Aleph, https://archiveofourown.org/users/EarthScorpion/pseuds/EarthScorpion
Summary: Beware the Southwest, for a new threat sails the seas. A ship of demons prowls the waves, and the den of sin and piracy that men call Saata has a new face stalking its streets. A face with grand ambitions.





	1. Chapter 1

Five days later, the maiden voyage of the Baisha takes it from the deep, dead caverns it travelled down and out into Creation. Keris hears the hull creak and feels the very taste of the air change and rolls out of bed, where she’d been lying on her side to take the weight off her spine.

Dashing to the command centre, she gazes out into the deep, dark oceans of Creation. This hidden place is sacred to Kimbery, and is located in an ocean trench. When the Baisha shines its lights upon the walls, she can see that they’re covered in unmelting indigo ice. Looking outside, she might think she was on a glacier at night.

“Milady,” her captain says, saluting with a sinuous gesture. “We’re out into the stolen world.” She says that with a nervous glance at the priest, who stands dead still in the corner of the room, silently watching. No one else is saying much, either. “Your orders?”

Keris breathes in, then out. Back in Creation. Back in the _Southwest_ , for the first time in half a year.

“Take us up,” she orders. “First order of business is to meet with Sasi and catch up on what’s happened while I’ve been away. Work out where we are and which way An Teng is while I send her a Messenger.”

“By my maps provided, we should be at the...” one of the helmsmen’s bodies lifts a map as another one keeps talking, “... Bu La Abyss. It looks to be around three hundred kilometres waterwards of An Teng. Assuming this map is correct, of course. Or that it’s to scale. Or that we haven’t been sabotaged by some rival of yours. That’s always a possibility.”

“We’ll assume they’re close,” Keris says drily. “Take us closer to An Teng, stay under the surface and out of sight. I’ll be...” she makes a quick check of the time. Evening. “... casting from my study.”

Easier said than done. Casting a Messenger is easy. Working out what to _say_ in it, on the other hand...

“Okay,” Keris says, back in her quarters at the stern. “Sasi doesn’t do well with surprises. At all. And _this_...” she gestures at the curve of her midsection, “... and _this_...” tapping the scar along her jawline, “... they count as surprises. Hard to say they don’t, right? But just telling her ‘oh by the way I’m pregnant’ through a Messenger... you know?”

Blinking at her from his perch on a shelf, Firisutu chirrups. Evidently he does not.

“I mean I can’t just throw it at her!” she explains. “She’ll make the same assumption Testolagh did! But... argh, too much to explain. And I don’t want to explain it by Messenger anyway, it’s personal. But if I don’t, it’ll take her by surprise and she’ll freak!”

Thoughtfully stacking a pile of silver coins into a neat stack, Firisutu makes a clicking sound and taps himself on the head. Keris rolls her eyes at him.

“I don’t think so,” she says flatly. “Wait, no. Actually. That is a good idea.” She pauses, considers, and grins. “Yeah. Yeah! Okay. Thanks for the help. Now...”

Retiring to the bare corner of the room made for this sort of thing, she closes her eyes and spreads her arms apart. Her caste mark flares as she summons up an icy marlin.

“Sasi,” she greets it warmly. “It’s been far, far too long since we last saw one another, and happily, that’s at an end. I’m en route to An Teng - if you can get to the coast, I can pick you up tonight and show you my new ship while we talk. There...”

She hesitates, long enough that the messenger twitches impatiently. “... there have been a few changes,” she says delicately. “That might surprise you. At a glance. So I’ll send someone to pick you up who can explain them so you won’t be taken by surprise. Nothing bad, I promise! Just... surprising. And... well, I hope to see you soon, and meet your daughter and make up for being away for so long. Come soon.”

She touches her fingers to her lips in a silent kiss as the fish flits away, faster than sight.

A message soon returns from Sasi. It sounds slightly harassed and there’s crying in the background.

“Dear one,” her fox says,

“It is wonderful to hear from you. Do not rush, and take your time. I have to set my affairs in order and conduct certain rituals tonight, but I will be waiting after sunset at Eyes Raised to the Setting Sun tomorrow.

“I have missed you dearly. I shall also bring Aiko with me... yes I will, won’t I?” There’s the deeply uncanny sound of Sasi making nonsense noises as she tickles a crying baby, who slows her crying and begins to giggle.

“Where was I?” Sasi continues, after the crying has stopped. “Yes, I will have her with me, and I will bring a servant of mine with me who can care for her. They will share quarters, so please make space for them.

“I have missed you dearly and I hope to see you again. I have news for you too, which I will share at our meeting. It is not for places like this.”

Her glass fox blows away into sand, that itself evaporates.

Eyes Raised to the Setting Sun. Keris gives the orders to head that way and prepare a set of rooms, then goes to find her aide.

“Rounen?” she asks. “I need you to do something for me. Tomorrow night I need you to go to a place on the coast with a pair of anyaglos, and bring back the people waiting there. And there are two specific stories I need you to tell them on the way back...”

Rounen is eager enough to help, and Keris gives him a... slightly redacted recounting of How Keris’s Face Got Scarred and How Keris Found Out She Was Going To Have Two Babies. She leaves out certain details from the latter tale. The precise identity of the parents, for example. That can wait until she’s face-to-face with Sasi herself.

She sends Sasi a reply agreeing on the meeting, and describing the demon who’ll be bringing her back to the ship. It’s not just for the sake of sparing Sasi the surprise of seeing her without warning, either. Keris is wary of taking the Baisha too close to shore yet - and warier still of leaving it while the Priest is onboard. She’s noticed that sand endlessly falls from the Priest’s robe. It’s probably some symbolic gesture as to how it’s still within Cecelyne or something, but Keris can’t help but feel irked that it’s getting sand on the floor of her bridge.

A day of tense pacing passes. Keris summons a second anyaglo to accompany Cissidy for the pickup and relieves her tension a little by heading outside for a swim - fast as the Baisha is, she’s faster, and it’s fun to pace it and peek into the bridge from the outside. But even that and a long bath in her quarters isn’t enough to entirely quell her anticipation, and she’s still decidedly nervous as she helps Rounen up onto the ribbon-horse a little before sunset.

The Baisha has surfaced to let them leave; the superstructure just breaking the water, and the sun is a deep red glow on the western horizon as she frets. It’s just them outside; the rest of the crew are below decks.

“Be polite,” she reminds him for what is probably the fourth unnecessary time. “And she might be surprised or shocked when you tell her the story, so just... pause and let her get over it. If she asks questions, tell her I’ll answer them when she gets here - in private. And... be safe. Don’t be seen! Except by her, obviously.”

They leave. Keris is so worried that in the end Dulmea all but insists that she meditate and drink some tea with Rathan, who is for all his other flaws a much more calming presence than any of her other children would be. Echo would just wind her up, Calesco would probably be very mean and Haneyl is apparently even more worried about this than Keris is. Dulmea sent her and Calesco out to practice archery together, to get her to take her mind off things.

“Don’t worry, Mama,” Rathan says, giving Keris a peck on the cheek. “Of course she’ll still love you. You’re lovely and beautiful.”

She cuddles him gratefully. “I know, sweetie. Thank you. Shall we wait outside for them, do you think?”

“I don’t know,” Rathan says, thoughtfully. “The moon will almost be full, won’t it, mama? What if she gets jealous of you and makes mean comments? Like Ululaya! She’s super-mean and horrid! This moon might just be the same!”

Keris considers this and nods gravely. “You make a good point. She does make Dead things and Wyld things all stupid, so she’s not all bad, but we don’t know what she’s like to other moons who are prettier than her.” She kisses him on the forehead. “Best to stay inside, then, where it’s safe. I’ll go out and greet Sasi when she arrives.”

“But then how will you know she’s arriving?” Rathan worries. “And maybe you _should_ be making that moon jealous!”

“Ah, but I can stay in the bridge and look out the window for her, can’t I?” says Keris cunningly. “And we can make the moon jealous later, once we’ve sorted ourselves out and settled in.”

“And have more tea! Did you know, did you know, did you know that Haneyl _refuses_ to share her tea with anyone if she’s at war with them? She’s so greedy! She’s... she’s just taking advantage of how she does plant-things!” Rathan objects, protectively guarding his cup. “So I don’t get any of her special types of food when we’re at war!”

Keris gasps. “How... Haneyl, of her. Have you tried stocking up on tea before going to war with her?” She pauses. “Or, you know, not going to war with her when you want tea?”

“I’ve really tried,” Rathan says piteously, “but she just deserves to be attacked sometimes. And anyway, she always starts it. Sometimes she attacks even after I’ve got my revenge and we’re even!”

“You poor thing.” Keris cuddles him extra hard, and settles down to brush his hair out. He’s good at keeping it neat - unlike Echo, who if she weren’t made of wind and ribbons would probably have hair so knotted and tangled that you could lose a marotte in it. Still, it can always do with a little tidying, and he likes the attention.

A chirrup from outside distracts her as Firisutu pats her face, and Keris opens her eyes. There’s a shape on the horizon. No, two shapes, coming their way.

“It’s her!” She squashes the urge to panic, freezes for a second as the urge to move in three different directions takes hold, and picks the one that takes her to the base of the superstructure and out onto the deck. Her hair swirls around her, veiling her midsection from sight for the moment, and she takes the time to wish she’d touched up a bit more than just having a nice bath.

... wait, no. Sasi doesn’t react to normal looking-pretty. Well, whatever. Keris is still nervous.

Rounen’s glow is a useful marker for the incoming demons, and Keris can hear it’s certainly Sasi out there. Sasi, and a baby who is having some kind of... possibly a counting game played with her toes.

And then Cissidy’s pink form is landing down on the deck, and Keris’ world goes all soft and warm as she sees Sasi for the first time in far, far too long. Her girlfriend looks positively radiant in the moonlight. In fact, her pale skin catches the silver light so perfectly, that the little bit of Keris’ brain that is still working properly notices that Sasi has quite deliberately prettied herself up and from the smell of it is using some very carefully chosen make-up.

In contrast to her light, though, there’s a dark shape in her arms. Two green eyes, their irises glowing green, stare at Keris with a very serious look for a baby. Sasi’s daughter is black skinned - no, not dark skinned, black as Sasi’s own shadow form - and although she’s wearing a elegant little grey smock she looks like she’s decidedly objecting to Keris’ presence here.

“Sasi,” Keris breathes, melting a little around the edges. She doesn’t run up and fling her arms around the taller woman, but it’s a close thing. “And... Aiko?”

Sasi _does_ throw herself at Keris, insofar as one can do that while juggling a baby. It eventually ends up with Keris wrapped around one side of Sasi under the full moon. “Yes. Oh, how I’ve missed you, dear one,” Sasi says fondly after she breaks off the first kiss. “And yes, this is Aiko.” She untangles herself enough to cradle the baby again and point her at Keris. “Aiko, this is Keris. Say hello to Keris.” She takes one of her daughter’s arms and tries to get her to wave. “Hello, Keris. Like that. Hello, Keris.”

This does not impress Aiko. She is glaring at Keris now. Yes, that’s definitely a glare, from those green-lit eyes. And then she blows a raspberry at Keris, revealing a little silver slip of a tongue. Keris reacts maturely and responsibly.

She blows a raspberry back. With her hair.

“Don’t ruin the moment, dear one,” Sasi says wearily as Aiko scowls and blows another raspberry back. “Don’t reduce yourself to the level of a six month old.”

“Alright, alright.” Keris rests her head on Sasi’s shoulder and drops a kiss on her neck. “I’ll make friends with her later. Maybe bribe her with some of Haneyl’s sweets. Shall we go inside? Do you want anything? Food? A bath? A tour? It’s so good to see you!” She buries her face in the crook of Sasi’s neck and squeezes for a moment, sniffling a bit. She missed Sasi more than she realised, she realises. Having her back is bliss.

“Let’s begin with getting Aiko settled and amused, and then we can think of something else to do,” Sasi says with a wicked smirk. “Come on, Aiko. Let’s go find the room Aunty Keris has for you and Least Wave, and then you can be fed and then maybe it’ll be nap time.”

Oh yes. Keris remembers that Sasi said that she’d be bringing a childcare person. She looks over at the other mount, the one that Rounen has hopped happily off of. Sasi’s companion is a Tengese woman - or at least she looked like she started as one. Now Keris can hear the demonic changes in her and the soft-hissing Cecelynian essence, though it’s very weak. Among other things, she’s carrying a satchel full of soft things and what sound like toys.

“My quarters are back in the stern, this way,” Keris says as Rounen trots up to her side. “Rounen! Well done; you did perfectly. Can you take the anyaglos down to the cargo hold where they have some space to relax? Cissidy, I’ll let you go running in the morning.”

YAY say Cissidy’s ribbons, while Rounen shivers with joy.

“She read all my stories I gave her,” he reports happily to Keris. Then he frowns. “She went very quiet, but then the baby started crying.”

Keris glances up at Sasi, and nods cautiously. “Right. Thank you for telling me - we’ll sort things out and you can tell some more stories later on. This way, Sasi.”

She avoids the bridge as they head down into the ship proper, and make their way backward along the top deck into Keris’s staterooms. While not as huge or lavish as the original queen’s suite, they’re still very comfortable - and after Least Wave and Aiko have been settled in the guest suite, Sasi is delighted to find that the royal bed has been installed in Keris’s bedroom.

The door seals with a click, and Keris sighs.

“Nobody should be able to hear us now,” she says. “My suite is soundproofed - I can hear through it, but it’s muted even to my senses.” She chews a hair tendril, suddenly a little shy. “So. I, uh, took a bit longer than I thought I was going to at Calibration. Sorry.”

“Just a bit,” Sasi says archly. “Just a _little_ bit.”

Keris winces. “I know, I know. I went out to capture fae for Ligier and I just... I wasn’t prepared for it at _all_ , and I realised I needed more... more leadership stuff. I _found_ them fine, it was just impossible to get them all _back_. And I got bogged down helping Testolagh with something - remind me to introduce you to Kuha later - and then when I got back to Malfeas things went _terrifying_ , and alchemy takes _ages_ when you’re doing something completely new...”

She hangs her head. “I’m really sorry,” she finishes. “I honestly thought I’d be back sooner. Things just kept delaying me.”

“Oh well,” Sasi says wearily. “I had rather hoped you’d be there for the birth, but then again, I suspect she’d have driven you away within a few days. She has... very healthy lungs. Yes. Although...” she reaches over, and traces her finger along Keris’ jaw. “Why? _Why would you do that?_ And _why are you pregnant?_ ”

Slumping forward to hug Sasi, Keris’s head finds her shoulder again. “The scar... can we not talk about the scar? That whole...” She gestures vaguely. “... anyway. Pregnant. Yes.”

An exasperated chuckle forces its way out. “If you think you’re surprised, Sasi, imagine what it was like for me when I found out. In the middle of a formal ball. Hosted by Ligier. Right in front of him and Lilunu.” She rubs her temples wearily. “I had... a dream, sort of. Crossing Cecelyne with Ligier’s payment in fae. I dreamt... I dreamt of people I... of...”

Keris stops, sighs, and starts again. “I had a dream,” she repeats. “And it was weird, and not a normal dream. I was asleep for five days, running across the Desert. And when I woke up, when it ended, I was stronger...” she gestures down, “... and I was pregnant. Somehow. Some secret of the Great Mother is making them take up _far too much space_.”

“How long is it?” Sasi asks, shaking her head and looking at Keris with the eye of a veteran at the whole ‘giving birth’ thing. “Aiko was the full fifteen months, but if you’re going to work like that you’ll be spherical by month ten.”

By Keris’ reckoning, she has decided that it’s just some Kimbery thing. Keris shrugs. “It’s been... three months? About three months. But it was nothing for a month or so, then I found out, and then a little after that it just... suddenly shot out. While I was working on alchemy. And hasn’t really changed since then.” She glowers. “It’s _awful_ , Sasi! I can barely do anything! I tried a Snake Style kata and _fell over_ , my balance is so thrown off! It gets in the way of my spear when I’m spinning! I’m even hungrier all the time! How did you _cope?_ How am _I_ meant to cope?”

Sasi shrugs. She doesn’t seem very sympathetic. “You’ll cope. Trust me, birth is _so_ much easier than as a mortal. Aiko just popped out in less than an hour. No pain, no bleeding, no need for a midwife. Although I suppose it did help that she just flowed out before taking her human shape.”

“You said she was special,” Keris murmured. “But I hadn’t expected the... the eyes, and her skin. Wait, little girl shape? She has others?”

Sasi raises her eyebrows. “She’s not human, Keris,” she says. “Didn’t you notice that? She’s an akuma. There are tales of the Anathema and their sun-children, gods born in human flesh - and the moon-children, godlings born with many forms. It... it came as some shock to me at first, but then she cried like my others and needed feeding like my others and in the end, she acts much like she’s a baby. Albeit one who can be a creeping shadow or a tiny dragon.”

She sighs. “Remember how we noticed that when I assumed human form again after being the shadow it took some time for my belly to swell back up? I think the time I spent as the shadow meant that too much of the powers of the Yozis bled into her unborn form for her to _be_ human.”

Keris’s lips twitch. “A dragon? She’s definitely your daughter, then. Why, um... why doesn’t she seem to like me?”

Sasi smiles. “Keris, she’s six months old. She doesn’t like anyone she doesn’t know. Maybe she does like you - at least enough to not spit fire at you.”

This draws raised eyebrows. “She can spit fire? Remind me to introduce her to Rounen, they can have a competition.” She bites her lip. “Do you think... wait. Wait, no.”

She shakes her head. “Um... pregnant. Scar. Those are the two big things you really need to know from what’s happened to me. Is there anything that big you need to tell me right away, or...”

Her gaze wanders towards the bed, and she sinks back into Sasi again. “Or can I start making up for leaving you alone for so long?”

“Well, we’ve mostly discussed Aiko.” Sasi looks directly at Keris. “Given we’re much of a likeness in power, I doubt your children will be humans either. Consider the nature of the Great Mother and that she’s a mother of monsters, if they’re born of her power... they might be less like a normal child than her. The rest is business and can wait.” She leans in to kiss Keris. “I’m just going to check on Aiko, and then you can get back to making it up to me.”

Keris already suspects that Aiko is plotting against her and trying to steal Sasi from her.

... maybe this is how Testolagh feels about _her_.

She pouts. This clearly isn’t fair at _all_. Aiko isn’t even doing things Sasi likes, like talking about smart stuff and... well, other things. She just spits fire and keeps Sasi awake a lot and... and fine, Keris is jealous of a six-month old baby. But it’s still not fair! And is totally different to how Testolagh is all... all paranoid about _her_ stealing Sasi away! For reasons!

... her eyes creep over to the painting mounted on the wall, covered by a discreet curtain so that it doesn’t distract her every time she spends time in her room.

Well, maybe she could give Sasi a _little_ surprise. Just to, you know. Remind her.

It takes nearly _half an hour_ for Sasi to come back in, her robe rumpled. “Sorry, dear one,” she says. “Aiko was hungry and she wouldn’t go to sleep until she fed _again_ and...”

Keris smiles innocently. “Oh, I understand,” she says sweetly. “I just spent the time admiring Lilunu’s gift a little more. Do you like it?”

Sasi blinks.

Sasi blinks again.

“Keris,” she asks, squinting. “Why are there two of you?” Keris feels invisible fingers brush across her face. “Except... only one of you is you-shaped. The other is flat.”

“Lilunu painted me,” Keris quotes smugly. “Not an image of me; _me_. It’s not just a painting of me, it is me, in every way. Watch.” She lifts her hands to her ears and unhooks her earrings, taking them out.

Sasi is just silent. Awe, Keris hopes.

Leaning over, Keris loops a hair tendril around her wrist and gently tugs her to the bed. “You _can_ tell which of us is which, can’t you?” she teases gently.

“I... I don’t understand. It’s not ink. It’s as beautiful as you.”

“Ah... yes.” Keris coughs awkwardly. “You remember that I heal really fast, of course, especially when I’m flaring, and... I mean, Lilunu has some _incredibly_ good drugs; ones that can send you far, far away for hours at a stretch, and...”

Sasi doesn’t actually shift her gaze away from the painting, but Keris nonetheless gets the impression of a stern look.

“... when I said that she painted me I wasn’t kidding,” she finishes in a rush. “She painted me. A painting of me, on me, with me, for me. There’s nothing in that painting that isn’t Keris. That’s why it’s like that. It’s more than just an image, it’s a part of me. Literally.”

“Well. I suppose that’s one way of saying ‘there’s no beauty without pain’, although my nurse said that when I was getting my ears pierced when I was little,” Sasi says sounding a bit numb.

“It didn’t hurt!” Keris hastens to assure her. “I mean, it would have hurt, but I didn’t really notice at the time because it turns out that the silvery bits in my anima taste like high C, and it’s sort of tingly and a bit...” She frowns. “I... don’t think there are really words for when you’ve had that much hallucinogenic chalcanth. But yes! Lilunu and I bonded a bit. And the actual painting sessions were easy.”

“You know what?” Sasi says, smiling. “Perhaps this is a talk for later.”

Keris pulls the curtain over her painting again, and gestures at the bed. “Agreed. Shall we?”

Sasi nods. “I think we have at least six hours until Aiko wakes up,” she says, her smile growing wider.

((bow chika wow wow~))

“So...” Keris mumbles about an hour later, snuggling deeper into the covers. One of the pillows is missing... ah, it’s over there. She tugs Sasi’s over instead. “What do you... mmm... think of the Baisha? Meet your standards of living?” She grins lazily.

Sasi sniffs in mock sadness, nudging aside one of Keris’ lust-addled gales. “I think it’s taken several steps back in comfort,” she says tragically. “Ligier made a complete mess of it.”

Keris weaves her hair into that of her doppelgangers, drawing them back in and wincing as three lots of stupid once again settle into her recent memory. “Clearly I should have been firmer about the comfort I expected. Oh! Though I should show you the garden later.”

“When did you learn to make extra bodies, by the way?” Sasi asks, clearly interested. “I could really make use of that.”

“That was... actually just after this,” Keris says, tapping her scar. “That... encounter, it was what pushed me to understand. But, urgh. Mine are broken.”

Sasi’s eyebrows quirk upwards and she kisses Keris. “They seemed fully functional to me,” she says mildly.

“They’re _idiots_ , though,” Keris grumbles, though she returns the kiss enthusiastically enough. “Those ones only barely have enough brains to do one thing, and if I make them any smarter they just _scream_. Lilunu says that doesn’t usually happen. S’just mine. And that means every time I reabsorb them I have to deal with a memory full of _stupid_.”

“My goodness,” Sasi says. “And considering you’re the one who does stupid things with the Silent Wind, they must be very, very stupid indeed for you to think they’re stupid.”

Keris pouts at her. “Try and talk to one, next time I summon some,” she grumbles. “You’ll see what I mean. Oh, and... you met Calesco, didn’t you?”

“The little dark girl?”

Keris nods. “My, uh, my eighth soul.”

“... I see. Eight souls,” Sasi says flatly.

“I asked Lilunu about that!” Keris says proudly. “She pointed out I’d only actually grown four. And that I wasn’t an Unquestionable anyway. But yes, she’s... once I work out how to externalise Haneyl and the others, you might want to talk to her. She has a bit of the Dragon in her, I think.”

“Mother mother mother! Mother mother mother _mother!_ ”

“I apologise, child, I couldn’t keep her out any longer.”

“... and Haneyl says hello and she’s very glad to see you again,” Keris continues seamlessly, barely missing a beat. “And that she’s come up with lots of recipes for yummy food you can try.”

“Then I would be delighted to take them,” Sasi says, and then pauses. “As soon as I have pockets.” She pauses and goes vague. “Actually, I have a present for Princess Haneyl,” she says. “The Lawkeeper, Princess Kalaska, has prepared gifts for her.” Rolling over, she reaches into the darkness under the covers and pulls out an immaculately wrapped box which manages to suddenly occupy half the bed. In fact, Keris falls out of bed with it suddenly pushing her out the way.

“She has been... bored with how I have been spending a lot of time looking after Aiko,” Sasi says, with a somewhat weary sigh.

“... I can tell. What- no, okay, fine, I won’t touch it. Here.” Keris’s hair moves over the box for a moment, and she concentrates. It’s gone a moment later, to the sound of Haneyl’s gleeful cheering. “Princess Kalaska?”

“She decided she was bored of being just the Lawkeeper and declared that she was legally giving herself a name. And making herself a princess. I fear Haneyl is an... influence on her.”

“She is very influential,” Keris agrees, grinning again. “Speaking of which, did you look at Rounen particularly hard on the way here?”

“He’s one of your demons,” Sasi says. “One of Haneyl’s, I must assume - he’s plant and fire.”

Keris’s grin widens. “So not that hard, then. He’s one of Haneyl’s now, yes.”

She rolls over and stretches. “But he used to be a szelkerub,” she adds, in a mock-light tone.

Sasi pulls a face. “Have you gone and done something that is going to shock and or appall me?” she says, eyes narrowed.

Shaking her head, Keris stifles the giggles down. “It surprised me as well when I found out. Sasi, the keruby, they’re not just Echo’s ribbon-girls; they _change_. Put them near Haneyl, they become plant-and-fire. Put them near Rathan, they turn into little ice-children. Calesco’s are tar-scryers - their essence is _fluid_ in a way I’ve never seen before.”

She shivers excitedly. “They can only change like that once each, I think. Rounen didn’t change when he went to stay with Calesco for a while. But they’re... they’re _fascinating_. Lilunu said there was something like the sublimati about them, but much, much weaker.”

“You know what? I will carry out a proper study of them later,” Sasi says. “I’m not going to converse this right now. Not when I can take my time back in An Teng. Now, I can think of better things to do when I have time away from a newborn.”

“Again?” Keris arches an eyebrow, grinning some more. “And I thought you were getting tired. Silly me.”

“I _am_ tired,” Sasi says. “That’s my point. I’m exhausted. Have you tried to keep a baby happy on a horse ride? Goodnight, Keris,” she says, snuggling up under the blanket.

“...” says Keris, and pouts.

((I rather thought that would be it.))  
((Hee.))  
((Baby blocked.))

“Well... fine,” grumbles Keris. “Haneyl, sweetie, could you go and make some sweets that are safe for a baby to have? I think we’ll try making friends with little Aiko while Sasi is getting some rest.”

“I bet she’d love my chilli-flavoured chocolate!” Haneyl squeals. “But later. Once I’ve opened my presents.”

“Well...” says Keris to a conspicuous absence of Haneyl. She sighs. “Fine then.” A brief debate on whether or not to use Rathan comes down on the side of Sasi probably not taking it well if she found out, and Keris slides out of bed, dons her Amulet and makes her way through to the guest suite. Sneaking in, she finds a sleeping coiled-up brass-scaled dragon wrapped around her babysitter.

((How big is she?))  
((About as long as Keris’ legs.))

“She wasn’t kidding, huh?” she murmurs to herself, and sits down next to them. Closing her eyes, she listens to the soft in-and-out of Aiko’s breathing; breath whistling in and out through draconic lungs.  Ears perked up, Keris can unpick some of the subtle melodies of Aiko’s existence. Sasi is right. She isn’t human. Not even a little bit. There isn’t the interplay of two souls, and there’s simply too much power. It’s not like Sasi or Keris - there’s nothing of the note of the shining essence within. Aiko is a devil-princess of Hell, a creature who exists within the rules of reality proclaimed by her mother. Her flesh is shadow, her bones are brass, her blood is fire.

((She’s Enlightenment 3 at the moment.))

The next morning... well, maybe the afternoon, Sasi calls Keris to the briefing room. The map is floating in mid air, showing the An Teng area and surrounding sea-lanes.

She has already managed to make the essence-projector work better than Keris has managed.

“Keris,” she says. “So, one of the things I’ve been keeping track of is the transport routes of the Imperial Navy and the Realm Merchant Fleet.”

Keris settles down, eyes intent on the map.

“The political situation continues to worsen in the Realm,” Sasi says. Her eyes narrow. “Princess Nemone has recalled the Eleventh Scarlet Legion. She and the Daimyo of War have begun to pull the Imperial forces back from the outer reaches. The Throne is maintaining its pressure on the Houses, but is freeing up assets to - in essence - see which House blinks first.”

She clears her throat. “The tourist trade to An Teng is down. As a result, it is likely this Season of Wood will have consequences for An Teng that the tribute it must pay will be a heavier burden on the local nobility. They will therefore be much more dependent on their exports. With the Three Flame Society devastated by the events in Buk Moi, however, there is a lack of surplus trade capacity in the local networks. That is to say, each ship wrecked will directly harm the medium to long term trading position of An Teng. And of the Houses invested in it, and most certainly of the satrap.”

She looks expectantly at Keris.

“So... An Teng’s trade is in trouble. They need to pay more. Their ships are more valuable than they used to, so each one I hit hurts the satrapy more, but also the Tengese?” Keris summarises.

“Mostly.” Sasi leans back. “In times of domestic turmoil, the Realm always gets its due. They have starved populations before selling grain to make the tribute, because the tribute is set far away. That was especially an issue with the ruinously expensive wars of the Third Scarlet - the Fourth Scarlet was much better at funding her expeditions. However, if trade is sufficiently harmed, they will not be able to simply sell goods. The end result will be that the tribute will have to be paid in raw silver and gems - and that directly harms the nobility of An Teng and the Three Princes, since they’re the ones who have to pay such dues.”

Keris thinks that through, and smiles slowly. “And if _those_ shipments get through, they won’t come over with big ships full of angry Dragonblooded, right?” she says. “But it’ll upset the nobles and turn them against the Realm more.”

“By my estimation,” Sasi says guardedly.

Keris nods. “I’m intending to move out from the coast,” she says. “I have the Baisha and the whole southwestern ocean to play with, so there’s no reason not to once I get fuel sorted out.” She bites her lip thoughtfully. “That’s going to be an issue. I’ll need at least two manses for that if I don’t want to be beholden to Hell. And they take forever to build.”

“Yes, they do,” Sasi agrees. “And since I can feel the Ligierian power suffusing this, it’ll be hard to provision locally.” She shakes her head. “There aren’t many fae around here, either.”

“I’ll keep her mostly idling until I figure something out, then,” Keris muses. “Oh! The Catalyst? And the... the crystal thing?”

“The Catalyst... worries me,” Sasi says, shaking her head. She looks around carefully. “I don’t necessarily think releasing it is the best idea. It’s too dangerous, if the tales are true. There’s talk of a red sunrise in the late Shogunate that devastated most of the coastal areas - why the Shore Lands are so much less fertile than the Middle Lands. I think it might be an idea to control the area, but unsealing it might be less advisable.”

She scowls. “Although I don’t want it to get in the hands of Deveh,” she adds.

Keris mulls it over. “It’s pretty well hidden,” she offers. “I wouldn’t have found it if I hadn’t got curious about the hole. I guess you could just set some demons to fill in the shaft if it really worries you? But just nobody-knowing-about-it might be the best course.”

“Perhaps. I will look at it more, but I worry too much that something in there may have been released - and if we break the seal, we will let out whatever the Catalyst is,” Sasi says.

“We could let it out and I could kill it,” Keris offers. The look she gets in response is bone-chilling. “Okay, fine, never mind. Oh, there was one major thing I was thinking of doing. I’d like to get my misbegotten out of the Shore Lands and onto an island of their own. Do you think you can help with logistics?”

That gets her another Look. “Do they even know how to survive if left on an island?” Sasi asks mildly.

“Yes!” Keris says defensively, despite knowing nothing of the sort. “They fish! And anyway, I’m going to make _changes_ to the island. Like Testolagh has, up in the northeast. Give them places to live.”

“Yes, but...” Sasi slumps slightly. “Keris, this isn’t the North East. An island that can support a large number of people will have people living on it already.”

That gets some consideration. “I can... probably force them off? Okay, how about this: I look around for an island first, then start looking into moving my misbegotten there.”

Sasi nods. “Mmm. I certainly believe that a few Tengese lords have their own holdings on off-shore islands. If you brought one of them into your service, you could just have them shipped there.”

“Then that’s what I’ll do,” says Keris firmly. “And I’ll also be sure not to stray too far away from you for long.”

“I’d like that,” Sasi says. “I may need your help. Deveh is being... erratic.” She pinches her brow. “If he continues to be a fool, he’ll call down a Wyld Hunt on his head. Well, I’ll just make it clear that I _told him so_.” Her words snap out with irritation.

“Of course.” Keris shifts and wraps a hair tendril around Sasi’s shoulders. “I won’t be able to leave the Baisha for too long in these early days, but I’ll help you as much as I’m able. Oh, yes. I don’t think I told you about that.” She grimaces. “There’s a Priest on board.”

“I felt it,” Sasi says. “So they set a watchdog on you.”

“Well, the way they phrased it was that it was here to bless the mission and make sure the ship doesn’t fall into the hands of the gods or the Dead,” Keris says. “So yeah. They set a watchdog on me. I think I made them nervous.”

Sasi rolls her eyes. “Keris, dear, I love you dearly, but you play with the Silent Wind. You make me nervous sometimes.”

Keris grins disarmingly. “ _You_ know I wouldn’t ever hurt you, though. I don’t think they’re quite so sure.” She sighs. “And my helmsman is jumpy and Neride... is polite and does what I say, but I think that’s more because of the priest than me. So yeah, ideally I don’t want to leave them all alone for too long until I’ve run a few successful missions and established myself; that sort of thing.”

The other woman nods. Reaching into her shadow, she passes Keris several thick books. “Logging detail, the names of captains and their vessels and the like. You might be able to use some of these captains - or else sink them. Also, they detail the names and lineages of the ones who own the vessels, so you can know who to best target. I’ve also added some commentary to help you make the best choices.”

“ _Perfect_. Oh, I owe you for this.” Keris kisses her gratefully. “How long will you stay onboard? A few days? Do you want a tour?”

“I will certainly take one when you have time. I can have about a week of absence if needed. After all,” Sasi smiles, “I have Aiko here with me. I’ve... I’ve missed having children around.” Her eyes go misty, and then she smiles naughtily at Keris. “Are you jealous, dear one? With a rival competing for your affections?”

Keris pouts and looks away. “No,” she says sullenly. “That would be... silly.”

“I’m sorry, dear one,” Sasi says, a hint of mockery in her voice. “But my breasts are really meant for her. She gets first claim on them, or she’ll starve.”

“Oh, hush.” Keris wrinkles her nose at Sasi. “Actually, though... um...” She bites her lip.

((Compassion 3... uh. Whoa. _5_ successes.))  
((Wait, did Keris go up to Compassion 4 from helping the owlriders or not?))  
((If you want her to, yes, you can))

“If... if you were going to... to take a longer absence,” she stutters, remembering Testolagh’s bitter frustration and guarded misery. “Testolagh is... is really missing you. And he can’t really leave what he’s doing there or the tribes will go to war. And... it’s not fair that I got to see his daughter before he did, and his buildings up there _are_ pretty comfortable, so... so maybe you should visit? With Aiko?”

“I can’t travel for a few months,” Sasi says, a flicker of guilt on her face. “She’s too young for the Desert. I’m not putting her through that. What if there’s a glass-storm? I can’t keep her safe from that.”

“If you gave a sacrifice to the Desert?” Keris prompts. “He’s just... it’s wearing on him, up there. He’s lonely.”

Sasi flushes faintly. “I’ll see what I can do,” she says. “You’re right.” She swallows. “But not until later in the year. Too much cold would be bad for her. I know he’s up there on the permafrost. But at the very least, I’ll try to speak more to him with the messenger.”

Keris nods. “It’ll make both of you happier,” she says quietly. “That’s good.”

“I suppose so,” Sasi says. “But Keris...” she looks her up and down dubiously, “... once you have babies, you can’t just go running all over the place. Babies need regular routine, calm places to sleep, and other such things. You will have to learn to accept it.”

“Did you forget? I can be in two places at once now,” Keris grins. “But... yes. I know. Even if I get my Gales worked out, I can’t carry these two with me like I can my souls.” She looks around. “That’s why I have the Baisha now. Why I’m looking to get an island. I realised up in the northeast that I had to start building things properly.”

“I think you’d want to look further south than here,” Sasi agrees, nodding. “Too close to An Teng and the eyes of the Wyld Hunt are too sharp. But further south... well, An Teng recovered somewhat from the Contagion. Those places didn’t. I’ve heard of ruined cities covering entire islands, inhabited only by tyrant lizards and mad tribal hunters.

“And then there’s the Wailing Fen. Heaven watches that place, but the entire place is a weak place to Hell. In the libraries of Orabilis it is said that Gorol died there, and the land is still tainted by the power Malfeas infused him with.”

Keris stretches, and sighs.

“Then that’s where I’ll start.”


	2. Chapter 2

After another day, Sasi departs. Keris is sad to see her go. She is... uh, rather less sad to see Aiko go.

Aiko bites. Her bites burn. With green fire.

“She deserves to go up to the cold north place,” Haneyl mutters in Keris’ mind. “Mama, I don’t think she’s a very good daughter for Mother. I think I’m much better, don’t you? She’s very rude, bitey, cries a lot, and always demands food and attention! Not like me! And she’s all dark and shadowy except when she’s brassy or firey. I look much more like Mother, don’t I?”

“You were _much_ better behaved,” Keris assures her. “Even when you were so little you couldn’t talk yet, you were very sweet and very brave.”

Haneyl makes a happy little noise. “Do you think Mother will like the snacks I made for her trip?” she wonders. “I made her a lot of very nice things! Mama, I get _so_ much better ingredients since you really studied how to make jungles grow better! Yesterday I managed to make a mango as big as my _head_.”

Keris makes appropriately awed sounds. “I’m sure she’ll love her snacks. And maybe they’ll be so tasty that Aiko will be better behaved for her as well. She can learn from her big sister how to be good.” She pauses. “Speaking of which, have you been trading letters with her _other_ big sister? I didn’t think the Lawkeeper had a name before.”

“Oh, she can’t settle on a name,” Haneyl says casually. “She keeps on changing her laws so she has a different name. She says none of them sound quite right. So she changes it whenever she feels like it.”

This draws a laugh out of Keris. She claps her hands together thoughtfully, peering at the maps Sasi left behind. “Right then,” she muses. “Business. If I want to settle somewhere I need to go south. If I want to attack the Realm, I need to stay around An Teng. I can’t keep moving between them until I have a source of fuel on this side of the Desert.”

She purses her lips, chewing a hair tendril thoughtfully. “Which means south first. I have a whole half a year before the next Althing, and the manses are more important. Though... urgh, manse-building.” She sighs. “Okay, let’s look at the maps.”

Spreading Sasi’s maps out, as well as the Shogunate-era charts she got from the Shashalme, Keris peruses them thoughtfully. “I need a Kimbery manse for the ship to move,” she muses, “and a Malfeas or Ligier one to power it. Hmm. That second one will be tricky. I can probably corrupt Water into Kimbery, but Ligier... maybe a Fire demesne? Or... I guess just taking a patch of Wyld and forcing it into Shape.”

“Perhaps the Sun is more like Ligier,” Calesco says glumly. “After all, they’re both suns.”

“Even harder,” Keris groans. “Okay. Okay. Calesco, I’d like you to carry a dream to Darling Yellow. Make sure you have the right appearance, and tell her... tell her that Riyaah MuHiitiyah has been searching for a new place for her people to live; rich and safe and plentiful, where they won’t have to claw a living from the shore and suffer from sickness.”

She taps her fingers thoughtfully. “Then I’m going to have the Baisha head south, down the coast. I want to have a look at this Wailing Fen - see if I can at least get a manse to Kimbery set up. Hmm.” She consults that maps again. “Bluehaven is meant to be a fair ways south of An Teng, or at least that’s where most guesses I’ve heard put it. I’ll send a Messenger to Narooj and see if he knows any other places sacred to the Great Mother. Maybe I’ll get lucky and find an existing manse.”

“Child,” Dulmea says, a hint of command in her voice. “With such a vessel at your command - not to mention a Priest of Cecelyne onboard - I would advise that you obey the dictates given to you by the Unquestionable and act to further your mission. Quite stridently, child, I beg you to not go off on your own diversions immediately. Show some willing, and then you will be able to say to the Priest that you are worried about fuel that you have spent following their orders.”

“We don’t know how long it’ll take to _find_ a manse, though,” Keris argues. “I know building them takes _years_ , usually. If I start late, the Baisha might wind up sitting in the dock useless for... hmm.” She pauses thoughtfully. “Then again... I’m a lot more mobile than the Baisha is. Five hundred miles down the coast and back is maybe a couple of days for me. I _could_ find a site and check it out between raids... then start the design work back here while... mmm.”

Rubbing her stomach idly and taking a chunk out of an apple, she eases herself back down onto her bed, four hair tendrils picking up Sasi’s list of ships by the corners and holding it above her. “What are our targets, then? Who’s worth hitting? Let’s see...”

((Cognition + Command for Keris to plan out her operations.))   
((...))   
((... : (.))   
((you are very mean to me))   
((keris r bad at military planning))   
((it r all ur fault))   
((... hmm. Is this planning out the operations or choosing targets? Because I reckon I could apply Social Saboteur to the latter, and then get Neride to handle the details.))   
((Planning out the operations - Keris has a list of shipping routes, etc, from Sasi already.))   
((mou~))   
((3+0+2 stunt+3 Adorjan ExD {catastrophe, calamity, no one expects her}=8. “Decent mortal” dicepool. I’mma have to get rapidly better at this, it seems. Dread Pirate Style, or something. 4 sux.))

Keris turns her attention to logistics. It’s not just a question of what targets to hit, but how to hit them. The ships need to just _disappear_. If they can disappear in a way that leaves them largely intact and in Keris’s possession, all the better, but every ship that simply vanishes en route is more wasted resources spent looking for it and more paranoia and fear when it’s never found.

She can see the trading routes. There are the ones heading north, towards the Realm - but there are also more vulnerable ones. Her mission is to destroy the Dynasts who profit from trade with An Teng - but An Teng is not just an exporter. There are also ships coming from the south and since this is a satrapy, the Realm profits from that trade.

She’s seen some of those ships at the Tengese docks, laden with nutmeg, cinnamon, rare animals and hardwoods. All those things are expensive - but the area they sail through has its own problem with pirates, including the Lintha. The Realm can’t be everywhere at once, and they’ll be less suspicious if some of these vessels vanish.

And of course, Keris thinks smugly, this will let her explore some further south - including around the tip of the Wailing Fen and some of the other islands - down south-west of the Shadowland of Nightfall Island.

“Here,” she decides. “This is where we’ll go. Calesco... it’s been half a year; send that dream. See if you can tell how she is, whether they have enough food and work from Sasi’s suggestions.” She cracks her knuckles. “I’ll think we’ll hit one or two convoys before talking to Narooj, so that we have something to bargain with and show off.” A pause. “... beyond the Baisha, I mean. Obviously.”

Keris orders her captain to head down south. The channels here are shallow and muddy, and she makes sure to stay clear of the shadowlands of Nightfall Isle. It’s nearly 500 miles, and slow going. It takes her nearly two days to work her way through the narrow channels, avoiding the mud and the ships. There are Realm vessels here, but she doesn’t attack here. The waters are shallow enough that her captain insists in going at one third speed to avoid beaching herself.

But once she’s past this island cluster, she’s into the half-circle sea that separates these lands. And the water here is deeper. Now, time for the hunt to begin.

“My lady,” Neride says, coiling around the control levers. “I have found an island marked on the maps which serves as a point where ships take on fresh water. I believe that this is one of the locations Lady Sasimana referred to when the two of us talked. They will have vessels coming in and out of here. We could lurk around here, picking them off as they approach - or take it with the marines and seize the location, turning it into a trap for now.”

Keris nods thoughtfully. “If we take the island, we won’t be able to avoid leaving signs of our presence” she says. “Later we might want that, but for now I’d rather those ships just disappear. We’ll ambush them as they come in. I’ll...”

She hesitates and glances down. “... that is, I’ll... I can... urgh.” A heavy sigh. “I’ll stay onboard,” she mutters sullenly. “And not lead the attack or fight anyone while my balance is still off. No matter how much I want to stab something.”

“Yes, my lady,” Neride says. “How do you plan to assault the vessel?”

“If it were carrying gold and gems, I’d say ram it,” Keris says. “But woods and spices and animals are touchier about saltwater.” She hums thoughtfully. “Find us a spot deep enough to hide submerged in. We can wait for them to pass, come up, give them a quick blast of the windstorm to clean the decks, and then board and take the rest deck by deck.”

((... Aleph, the windstorm murders wooden ships))   
((When I say “quick blast”, I mean like “a few seconds; one action” - enough that the people exposed on desk will be groaning and wounded but the ship won’t be, you know, eroded through entirely. It’s 6L/action - wooden hulls aren’t touch, but they’re not _that_ weak. A brief windstorm like that is a viable way of putting everything exposed to the level of “dead or dying” unless they have defenses, which is enough to get a beachhead on deck.))

“Oh, mama! Mama mama mama!” Haneyl interjects. “Why not make a trap made of plants that they’ll get stuck on when they sail into it!”

“...” says Keris. ‘Haneyl. Sweetie. You are a genius.’

“I can barricade the channel to snarl their rudder,” she says aloud. “That will let us stop them at the right point for an ambush. And... hmm. Actually, I can probably provide support from the Baisha; coax their deck to grow into poisonous thorn bushes. We might not need the windstorm to clear the decks, in that case - I can target any groups, and we can have a volley ready to fire from the superstructure.”

Archer demons, she notes to herself. She has a few tomescu, but she could do with summoning more archers; for precisely this kind of ambush. She can start tonight. Keris isn’t sure when the next ship will come, but she’ll want to get them before they stop here to get water. These ships will just... go missing.

In the end, she has ten days before the next is sighted by Cissidy, who’s scouting for her on her runs.

She’s spent her time productively, and has ten twice-crossed bows perched at various arrow slits in the Baisha’s superstructure and a channel mired in Metagaoiyn growth. The time has been helpful practice - calling up plants around her is easy, but calling them up from a distance is harder to aim than it looks, and the repeated use of the trick has helped her out a lot in that regard.

((Okay, this is just a strategic-scale operation. It’s Cog + Command to organise it, though she could leave it up to her captain.))   
((Keris’s pool is 8 when she boosts it as high as it’ll go. If Neride’s is higher - which I suspect it is - then yeah, she’ll leave it to her.))   
((Then roll 13d10 for Neride.))   
((10 sux, lol.))

The raid is a clean success. The ship snags themselves on the hungry grey sargasso sprawling from Keris’ powers, and then when they’re trying to unsnarl themselves, the Baisha rises and then there’s nothing but demons swarming onto the junk.

It’s very short and brutal. No one onboard survives. Keris doesn’t get to do any of the actual fighting, though several snarling, viciously-thorned thickets on deck testify to her part in the melee. She uses them for spear practice, grumbling a little as she trims them back down and tosses them overboard, then heads down to supervise the transferal of the cargo into the Baisha’s hold. There’s the sound of consumption on deck as many of her demons who aren’t busy emptying the holds indulge in consuming the dead.

The ship itself is a two sail junk, perhaps twenty metres in length. It’s thus dwarfed by the Baisha and there’s plenty of space to move its cargo of hardwood.

Frowning, Keris looks over the side. The grey sargasso is already crawling up the sides of the boat. The sprawling mass of Haneylian vegetation is trying to consume and assimilate the dead wood of the ship.

“Isn’t it _pretty?_ ” Haneyl purrs, a note of hunger in her voice. “The sargasso is hungry, mama. It’ll make the ship part of it. The wood used to be alive. We’ll make it live again.”

((... oh, Haneyl, you and Poison Ivy would... understand each other))

“You know I can’t leave it out in the channel like this,” Keris sighs. “It’ll alert the other... hmm. Okay, tell you what. I’ll send it into the Domain. I... would ask you to keep it intact, but I’m pretty sure that’s a lost cause already, so I’ll just say ‘try to get into a fight with Rathan over it’. No taunting him.”

Haneyl makes a noise. “If it means _Brat-than_ doesn’t get it,” she says reluctantly, “you should have grandmother look after it.”

Keris waits until everything is unloaded, cutting some of the sargasso back as she does, then orders everyone below deck while she works. The sargasso patch is a perfectly viable entry point, and she’s pretty sure the fog her ritual calls up obscures what she’s actually doing.

When she’s finished, the junk is safely in a city harbour - albeit in need of some repairs - and there’s no sign it ever reached this little cluster of islands. She gives strict orders to all of her souls that while they can look, they’re not allowed to damage the ship _yes this means you Echo wear your dress if you want to explore_ or fight over it. Mama might need to use it later.

“You know,” Haneyl says wheedlingly, “It’d get much bigger if you’d sacrificed all the sailors to me. Or you. Or the Hungry Swamp but you really shouldn’t do that because we deserve it more.”

“I’ll get you an island later,” Keris says tolerantly. “But we can’t afford to draw attention here. I’ll have to break the magic in this patch anyway when the Realm starts trying to figure out what’s stopping the ships from getting here.”

“It better be a nice island,” Haneyl whines.

“You’re such a spoilt brat!” Calesco intrudes. “And I think sacrificing people is wrong. You’re killing people just to feed plants.”

“... yes. That’s the point.”

“That’s stupid.”

“You’re stupid!”

Things deteriorate into hair-pulling from thereon in. Which is to say, they’re using their hair to pull each other’s hair, and if things go as they usually do, within a minute they’ll be so tangled up they’ll have problems getting separated.

“Actually,” Keris interrupts them, “I’m not going to sacrifice people to expand my jungles. If I want them to grow, I can do it myself. I’m gonna use them to house the misbegotten - as a defence around the edge of the island so pirates and raiders and Realm ships can’t get at them. Then they can pray to me - and all my souls - and honour us that way.”

“Told you so!”

“But the jungle wants blood, mama!” Haneyl wails. “No matter what stupid Calesco says!”

“Ow! Mama, she bit me!”

“Only because you started kicking me!”

“Both of you, stop it!” Keris snaps. She’s feeling bloated and huge and is _really_ craving some fiery chalcanth for some reason and is in no mood for her daughters fighting. “Haneyl, I’ll allow human sacrifice for slavers and raksha and people who attack our islands, but not people we raid. Calesco, if we need to kill them anyway and they deserve it, we might as well make their deaths help other people instead of just wasting lives. Now quit bickering.”

((Echo helpfully points out that raksha aren’t humans, and is subject to three glares.))

Eventually they manage to untangle themselves, leaving Keris some peace and quiet to think. She is feeling conflicted. She knows what she has to do for the Yozis - and for power and to fuel her ships and so on. But she still cares about happens.

Propping her chin up on her knees, Keris hugs herself. She never used to care like this. When she was on the street, she never had to care about things like this. She’s got soft and fat. And bloated. And spherical. And ugly. And what if her babies are cruel and mean and horrible and bitey like Aiko was?!

“Who are you going to be?” she whispers, tasting the tiny lives inside her again. They’re no longer the tiny little blobs of flesh they were when she first found out about them, but they still don’t taste at all like how a human looks; all huge heads and distorted spines and weird limbs. It’s night, so her little boy’s heart isn’t beating - and hadn’t _that_ led to a full-scale meltdown the first time it had happened, until she’d realised he still tasted alive and it had restarted the next morning. Her daughter seems more active at the moment; rocking from side to side and flexing her floppy little legs.

“What are you going to be like?” Keris asks them, quieter than a mouse; intimate and private. “Will you be special like Aiko? Will you get along, or fight? How will you look at me?” She strokes the curve of her belly, and unexpected tears blur her eyes.

“I don’t really know what I’m doing,” she admits. It’s easy talking to her unborn children. They’re very good listeners. “I hope I have a place you can grow up safe and happy by the time you’re born. I hope... I hope I can keep from doing things that hurt the world, and just make a place in it.”

The little girl seems to grow tired of kicking, and settles down again. Keris sighs.

“I need to think of names for you,” she says. “Ones that your fathers would like, maybe. Or maybe not. They’re not still around like Testolagh. I’ll think about it.”

((Okay, so we’re moving into monthly ops here, unless Keris is hitting _every_ ship that comes this way. It gives her some time for exploring the area as she can relocate to new areas every month or so.))   
((Yeah, she won’t hit all of them. She’ll take maybe two out of ten, then countermagic her jungle and move to a new hunting spot. And, sigh. Move the ship inside her soul every time they’re left functional. Which, hah, Ligier heard about and assumed was just a secret of the Great Mother, so she’s covered there.))   
((Hmm. So, each month, roll Reaction + Survival to locate a good base to operate from. If she rolls well, that means that she’s got a place she can power down the Baisha and save on fuel. Then roll Cog + Command as applicable to run the attacks. Keris also should roll Reaction + Awareness to avoid running into anything that’s dangerous to attack. Roll the Survival roll first to see what she finds for each month’s base of operations. Naturally, as time goes on the Imperial Navy will step up patrols and things get more dangerous))   
((5+3+2 Coadj+4 Metagaos ExSux {voracious hunter, lurks in plain sight, cunning in predation}=10. 5+4=9 sux.))

Keris swiftly finds a nice little islet to set up operations, away from any major sea routes or settlements. It’s a rocky islet rising from the shallow blue-green sea mostly home to gulls, but rainwater collects in the centre of the island and the cracked stone provides a narrow inlet where she can hide the Baisha. Someone would have to be very lucky to see it - and once she coughs up a bloody chunk of phlegm and gets strange trees Haneyl designed growing on the water as if they were on solid land, she can hide the tower of the ship behind the vegetation. And unlike wooden ships, the Baisha can just ram its way out.

She makes sure to countermagic the sargasso-growth before she leaves, so as not to arouse too much suspicion should someone go looking. She can, she estimates, keep this up for quite some time if she keeps moving around and changing her impromptu ports.

Sasi’s charts and trade routes are still good. Keris sends scouts out - Kuha on anyaglo-back, Cissidy, a few others - and summons several more twice-crossed bows until she’s satisfied with the Baisha’s ability to bring a rain of arrows down on an unsuspecting ship. The ballistae, she saves for more dangerous prey. For now.

((So, Cog + Command for your month of raiding, and Reaction + Awareness as a defence to avoid trouble.))   
((Do I get a hearing bonus for the latter, and can I delegate to Neride for the raiding?))   
((Yes and yes - Keris can hear the noise of jade weapons or things like that from a long way away and so avoid ships with DBs on))   
((Awesome. So:   
Raiding merchants: 13 dice; 7 sux.   
Avoiding trouble: 12 dice; 1x2+4=6 sux, lolwut gah.))   
((Pfft. _Barely_ squeaked that - literally it was a tie, but since you were the defender. So the raiding for the month goes successfully though there’s one very close call that Keris barely manages to pull out of before they engage. Stunt as you will.))

Raiding goes well. Few merchant ships are prepared for the Baisha to rise out of the water next to them and unleash death, and Keris even gets to actively help out once or twice by swimming out and snarling their victim’s rudder. It’s not the same as _fighting_ , but it’s something.

It also saves them all from a great deal of potential trouble when, during one such excursion, she hears the soft rasp of velvet over a sharp jade edge in one of the cabins. A little more focused attention pins it down as a daiklave - and the owner as a Dragonblood. Keris doesn’t wait to find out whether there are any more - she hightails it back to the Baisha and calls the attack off before her ship gets any closer. Someday, when she has a powerbase and a fleet and manses to supply her with fuel; then she can challenge the Princes of Earth. But not yet.

Overall, though, it’s a good month. She splits her spare time - such as it is - between grimly practicing with her knives and spear to get back into fighting form and relaxing with art. Sasi’s absence allows her to reshuffle the guest quarters and claim the smaller bedroom as an art studio, and fairly soon there are a number of stacked canvases neatly arranged in piles along on one wall. Haneyl gets a set of puzzle-pictures, and after some effort Keris manages to foster a vague interest in calligraphy in Rathan - though she’s not sure whether he’s trying it for its own sake or so that he can write his orders very prettily.

The Baisha’s hold is filling up with rare woods and spices, Keris’s chartroom has a number of maps of the Southwest, and her soul now holds several ships awaiting whatever use she decides to put them to. An Infallible Messenger swims its way to Sasi one evening near the month’s end to inform her of Keris’s successes, and to ask how the Dynasts are taking the mysterious disappearances.

Sasi’s blue fox comes bounding in swiftly.

“My love,” it begins,

“Things are going well here. Thank you for the notification of the vessels you hit - I have ensnared a few of those Dynasts already with bridging loans. So far not enough have been hit for it to be major - they think it is merely poor weather or pirates. They are stepping up their defences, and planning to hire more vessels to escort their ships - either the pirates of Saata, or perhaps of Numan.

“I am of course missing you, as is Aiko. It is astonishing how similar in many ways her development is to a normal child. She is starting to sit up on her own, and she does love coiling around the kitten I bought her. The two of them are close friends, though I have had to stop her grabbing its tail.

“In other news, it is now Falling Earth and it is getting even hotter. Is it cooler where you are? No doubt you have the sea breeze - but then again, you are five hundred miles further south. It is a shame you missed the cooler seasons in An Teng - they are like a pleasant Fireseason in the Realm.

“With all my love,

“Sasimana.”

The fox shatters into nothingness.

“I do seem cursed to be too cold or too hot,” Keris admits in her response. “But as long as I stay in the Baisha the heat isn’t too bad. I’ve been working on art between attacks - I’ll have to see if I can make Aiko a toy or two to play with. Or maybe a friend? I don’t know when children start to talk, but a petal cherub to read her stories might be nice - and they can spit fire together. I’ll take your word that she’s missing me on trust - Haneyl is missing you, of course.

“Thank you for the warning about pirate escorts. I’ll work those into my plans - or at least tell Neride so that she can. My hold is building up quite a valuable treasure trove, and I think it’s time I start putting it to use. I can’t put off looking for a manse to fuel the Baisha forever, but these spoils are more than enough to convince the Lintha to do it for me.

“The Malfean hearthstones are going to be more of a problem, though. I don’t know how to corrupt a fire or solar demesne into a Ligierian one, or even if I can find either to start with. Still, I’ll think of something - another month or two of raiding and even the Priest will have to agree that securing a fuel source is crucial.

“I’m missing you too, as always. My art room is building up a lot of pictures, but they don’t do the real thing justice. Hopefully before too long I’ll be able to visit and you can model for some better ones in person. There are a few spices and oils I’m keeping back from the cargo we’ve taken - you’ll enjoy them, I think.

“Looking forward to seeing you again,

“Keris.”

Keris decides to relocate for Rising Wood. She can head to the Violet Coast, look for islands in the shallow sea, or head down towards the larger landmass next to the coast which has names of places like Remon and Saata.

She chooses the Violet Coast as her next destination, curious about the taint of Gorol that lingers over the Wailing Fen even millennia after the ancient, terrible akuma’s death.

The Baisha surfaces near the headlands of the fen. And Keris feels... at home. Strangely at home. It’s hot and overcast, the sun obscured by haze. The sky is a murky green-grey, and even the sunlight has a green tinge. It’s ferociously hot and the air is muggy. Some of the stunted trees she can see on the shore as the Baisha sails through a channel have almost brassy-looking yellow leaves. Other plants are wilted and grey.

The scent is acidic. It cuts at the nostrils.

And despite the heat, there’s blue-tinted ice on some of the basalt rocks that protrude from this ruined land. Basalt rocks that, from a distance, look almost like buildings.

From what Keris has heard, some captains - braver than most - will come ashore here to capture the wildlife and take samples. Occultists throughout the Realm - and maybe even Creation - use things from here as a substitute for Malfean matters. Even the animals are, though mortals, twisted to resemble demons.

She’ll have to be careful, though. Sasi’s warnings that the Bureau of Destiny watches this place carefully ring true in her ears. She’ll have to pick her base of operations with care. Standing on the Baisha’s bow, Keris closes her eyes, drinking in the sounds of... well, it’s not quite home - home is the Baisha itself, after all. But it’s familiar. The ring of the essence is comforting. And hey, visually speaking, her jungle-growth will fit right in! All she needs to worry about is hiding from more esoteric senses.

Just at the edge of hearing - far, far too faint for anything but her ears to hear - Keris hears the echo of a roar. A never-ending roar, endlessly, countlessly, eternally echoing in this place. A savage monster, made from a champion of the sun, roaring in rage and triumph and pain - because these things are all the same to it.

This sound, Keris realises, has echoed here in this place for nearly five thousand years.

((This place can be used to train in various Styles of the Infernal Monster - each one a different path of Gorol’s monstrosity, as if one was learning directly from him, if you can hear his echoes.))   
((... okay, that’s pretty sweet.))

Within the fenland, there’s plenty of stagnant rivers and lakes that Keris can slowly, carefully take the Baisha up. In fact, she finds an abandoned castle by a lake, the walls ruined and crumbled. From the carvings, she thinks it was built by the Realm in the time of the Second Empress and lost to some kind of monster from the fens and never rebuilt. This’ll be useful. In many ways, she’ll need new hunting tactics here. The gatherers here know how dangerous it is, so they grab the best soldiers they can and effectively raid the shoreline.

If she ambushes gatherers in the fens, she can find out where their ships are and then lead her demons to seize the vessels, snarling the oars and sails with the lesser forms of Haneyl’s plantlife to stop them fleeing. The Baisha is less useful here if she’s going to operate more on land.

Happily, she’s more or less got her edge back. Her pregnancy still slows her down, but she’s worked out how to compensate - and in her armour, against mortals, the difference won’t be enough to matter. She can leave the Baisha moored, using only a trickle of power, while she continues to hunt.

((Now, she can bring plenty of demons along if she wants to do this - the marines plus whatever she summons or makes herself. Is there any specific force composition she goes for?))

The gatherers are infrequent, and Keris fills the time spent waiting for them by building up a small group of farisyya and Rathan’s caelpans - the former for attacking gatherers in the fens, the latter for marine assaults. She doesn’t have time to summon many of either, but even three charging farisyya are formidable, and a berserking caelpan is a terrifying sight. Both sets of demons are greatly pleased with the improvements she makes to their armour.

((A few farisyya and caelpans as shock troops to smash any serious resistance; normal demon crew otherwise.))   
((... man. Imagine being in a longboat when a caelpan comes after you.))   
((Okay, on land Keris has to run things herself. On the other hand, she’s there in person to be a murder-blender. So these attacks are run using her Physique + Command.))

Armoured and eager to be _doing_ something again, Keris leads the land-based attacks herself - from the front. The few survivors of her assaults are pressured into giving up the locations of their ships by force of overwhelming presence and terrifying threats. Then Neride takes the lead - and what she lacks in pure, singular lethality she makes up for with leadership and more than a century of experience.

((5+0+2 stunt+5 Malfeas ExD {excessive force, awe and terror}=12. 4 sux, bluh.))   
((And the avoiding danger roll?))   
((Oh yeah. 12 dice, 8x2+4=20 sux.))   
((... pfft, they botched on 10 dice))

Keris’ raids go perfectly. In an act of supreme military brilliance that wasn’t at all good fortune caused by how most of the crew of a ship had come down with malaria, she manages to capture a four-masted junk flying the flag of the Imperial Household and its entire escort fleet of one and two-masters. The entire Dragonblooded staff of the expedition were on shore at the time, in a separate group to the one Keris raided, and there’s nothing to stop her silently depopulating the vessels and then waltzing away with her prize.

She doesn’t get any treasure from it, but she does get a fifty-metre long four-masted junk, four twenty-metre two-masters and six fifteen metre one-masters. Which is, in her certain opinion, totally worth it.

In fact, her main problem is handling this many vessels. The Terrestrials may come back and she can’t spend the time to store so many in her soul. She really needs some more sailors, she thinks sadly. For now, she risks bringing the Baisha out to claim them, splitting her crew between the small fleet to lash the ships together and using her own ship’s powerful engine to tow them away to safer harbours, where she can take the two days or so of constant work that she’ll need to transfer them into her Domain. It all goes much as planned, even if some of the smaller ships have to be manned... uh, demoned by a skeleton crew.

Rathan is crowing with ecstatic glee in Keris’ head at the thought of all those snobby Dynasts getting back and finding their ships gone. Keris gets some crowing of her own in to Sasi, informing her rather smugly that night of the small fleet that has gone missing without a trace; abandoning several Terrestrials to the mercies of the Violet Coast.

Sasi’s message is short, sweet, and to the point. And much to Keris’ delight, doesn’t mention Aiko at all.

“Dear one,

“Well done.

“This will not go un-noticed. Members of the Imperial Household here will include sorcerers. They will call for help and the Navy will retaliate.

“Take care.”

“With all my love,

“Sasimana”

Keris promptly decides that it is perhaps time to leave the Wailing Fen, and broaches the topic that very evening to her three highest officers.

“We have stuck a great blow against the Realm today!” she declares. “Our fleet now totals almost twenty ships! But the Baisha’s fuel will not last forever, and the Imperial Navy will be coming to sniff at our tails. We have wounded them - now it’s time to step back and guard our own back while their injury festers. We need manses - a fuel supply on this side of the Desert, so that the Baisha can keep sailing Creation’s waters. As soon as I have finished parcelling away my new ships, we will leave the Violet Coast and seek out a Lintha fleet I’ve had dealings with. They can help us find a suitable manse.”

Her helmsman does not seem to particularly care. The Priest stares at her, blue fires flickering. She gets the intense feeling that she is being judged.

Her captain is less calm. “With the greatest respect,” she says, clearly trying to control herself in front of the Priest, “have you considered that it might be better to remain strong yourself and not lessen your fleet by giving it to some... some half-bred _mortals?_ ”

“Oh, I’m not giving them _my_ fleet,” Keris retorts, vaguely insulted at the very concept. “Hush to that. I might, if they prove themselves very useful, let them _serve_ on my fleet, when I field it. But no, I’m going to let them take some of the cargo we’ve taken off my hands - Narooj already thinks highly of me, and proof that I’ve been raiding better than he has will only help that impression.”

She smiles. There’s something sharklike about it. “And then he’s going to tell me everything he knows about places sacred to the Great Mother. Who knows? They may even donate the hearthstones without me needing to take them by force.”

That seems to calm Neride down. “Yes, my lady,” she says, bowing her head.

“Alright, see to it. I’ll be claiming the ships for the next couple of days. We leave as soon as I finish. I’m not prepared to get into a straight fight with the Imperial Navy; not yet. Make sure we’re ready to go in three screams, and have someone look through the hold for things that are impressive and valuable and too much of a hassle to bother selling ourselves. Narooj can have them in return for his help finding a manse.”

The Priest nods once, and then leaves the room.

The helmsman relaxes. “So where should I prepare a course to? Towards Saata, or back north?”

“Saata. We can anchor under the waves somewhere nearby and have Narooj meet us there.” Keris tugs a lock of hair as she turns to leave. “And that means I’ll need to check what Sasi wrote about the place. Wonderful. Reading reports; the perfect thing for a post-ritual headache...”

Her grumbling dies down as she heads down from the bridge, muttering to herself grumpily.


	3. Chapter 3

It’s very nearly the end of Ascending Wood. The moon is just a tiny sliver in the sky. Keris floats in the water next to her surfaced ship, only her face exposed. It helps take some weight off her spine and she finds it helps her think.

It’s possible that Narooj will take several weeks to get to their meeting point, depending on where he is. If he’s up near An Teng again... well, as a rule of thumb a sailing ship travels 800 miles a week, so it could take him as much as a month if she’s ranging north.

She should make good use of the time.

Keris grits her teeth. Stupid babies. No wonder Sasi got so short-tempered. They’re going to be in her for nine more months! And they’re only going to get bigger.

Well, at least none of the demons on her ship judge her for walking around looking so heavily pregnant. They may not know what it means. Humans, on the other hand, will ask questions, especially if she gets any bigger. Her body keeps on changing. She’s getting odd cravings for things like super-hot food and rotten meat. And she’s eating for three - and at least some of the food is going straight to her breasts. Sasi said that was a normal part of pregnancy, even for an Exalt - but all these things are throwing her off balance.

Keris sighs again, sinking underwater into the depths. Maybe she’s been spending too long at sea. She misses Nexus, sometimes. Even the cities in An Teng aren’t the same.

Saata, she decides. She’ll explore Saata for now. She can use the Dragon’s shadow to disguise her pregnancy as long as she doesn’t leave it up for too long, and it’ll give her an idea of shipping activity in the region. Sasi’s notes on the city are scant - it’s way too far south for her to give it more than a passing mention - but what she has written suggests a sordid den of vice, crime and piracy.

Keris feels more at home already.

It will be around a day of travel if she travels there full speed. However, she’ll need to take it more carefully if she doesn’t want to be noticed. Perhaps she should find a place to hide her ship and go on-foot? On-swimming. Whatever.

After some thought, she regretfully decides that the Baisha is simply too noticeable for this venture. Not only is it a hundred-metre long warship, it’s also an artifact of terrifying potency. It’s just not worth the risk of taking it close to something that is, however degraded, still technically a Realm satrapy.

On the plus side, two and a half months of successful raiding has done a great deal to firm up her status as the woman in charge. The Priest still tends to give her worryingly evaluating looks, but Neride seems to more or less approve of her style of management. Taking the front lines in the Wailing Fen probably didn’t hurt her there, not to mention managing to steal the entire mini-fleet. She can afford to leave the ship alone for a while.

Some discussion with Firisutu, Dulmea and her angyal twins eventually leads Keris to an idea she’s happy with. She directs her captain to take them back to the islet base and conceal the Baisha within, then spends five days summoning marottes and drawing up construction plans. There are no shipping routes or settlements nearby; so as long as she’s not raiding from the place it should go unnoticed. And _that_ means she can hollow it out and build a proper harbour in the middle. It’ll need more supervision for the detailed work, but the rough outline... well, they can get on with that while she’s gone.

Keris nods to herself happily. It’ll be quite a nice little harbour. And she’s designed the artwork for the statues of herself that will stand at the edges of the harbour, hair and arms outspread. That done, she bids Neride keep an eye on the crew while she’s away. There isn’t space to unload her fleet of junks just yet - and she’s also not willing to spend the several days it would take, however annoying it is that keruby have been getting into the rigging and wrecking the sails. Slipping into the water, Keris luxuriates in the freedom of swimming, and shoots off towards Saata.

Navigating in the water is always easier than on land. The maps that Keris filched from her chartroom point her in roughly the right direction, and then she just needs to listen to the currents and follow her heart to end up in the right place. She’s learned to trust her feelings when she’s going by sea. Unlike her feet, they rarely lead her astray.

It’s just before dawn when Keris arrives at Saata. It’s a small island - well, no. The island where Keris is building her hidden base is a small island. But Saata measures perhaps thirty kilometres across at its widest, and twenty kilometres in the other direction. It’s next to a much larger island - Keris doesn’t know that one’s name, but she can see farms and fishing villages and a castle there. But Saata is surrounded by small islands and - her eyes perk up - the ruins of white stone bridges which once connected the islands together.

In fact, the white stone is everywhere. There are the overgrown ruins of Shogunate tower blocks emerging from the inland jungle and she can see what look like estates close to the beach where the land has been cleared and the dense mangrove swamps somewhat cleared.

And then she circles around the headland, and she sees the two giant statues, crumbled and broke and with their arms fallen forming a breakwater. And in the pre-dawn light, she sees the city of Saata rising up from the waterfront, rising away from densely packed docks which even before dawn are swarming with men and women and children, working on sails. The waters around here are densely packed, with countless small fishing vessels and smaller trading ships going and coming, coming and going.

The city is bright and light-filled. Not just from the burning torches, but the white stone that the structures are built from have been decorated with glowing paint. They scrawl out signs selling drugs, beer, wine, women, men. Keris’ sensitive ears can hear the sound of a thousand vices coming from the waterfront. She hears men fighting and dying in arenas and in the streets in brawls. She hears the clatter of dice and the sound of tiles being placed.

This city has been indulging since before night fell and it’s not slowing down, even though the sun is nearly rising in the east.

How to enter? That’s the question. She can either go in as an unassuming mortal, or as an Outcaste Dragonblooded. The latter would give her far more leeway to break things... but she’s here to look around, not cause a ruckus. At least, not this time. Sinking beneath the water, Keris concentrates, and _changes_.

Her bump shrinks back down to her usual flat stomach - not gone, just... hidden. Her skin turns gold, her hair turns black - and shorter, though she refuses to pull it further back than her knees. Her eyes stay unchanged. She’s tried before, but something in her doesn’t seem to like disguising them. And Calesco seems to agree.

A young Tengese woman, her essence no stronger than a mortal’s, surfaces like a ghost in the docks of Saata. Amidst hundreds of busy people she goes unnoticed, and - after a quick pause to drink the water left in her hair - heads silently into the city with the ease of one born to harbour-cities.

The streets are packed and they’re busy setting out markets. Keris doesn’t stand out at all here. Although they’re a minority, there’s a distinct group of Tengese-looking people and she can hear plenty of Tengese-accented Firetongue.

But they’re not the only ones. The locals have darker skin than Keris and coiled hair with a hint of red to it, but they seem to come in two sizes - the more common shorter ones who are nearly Keris’ own height, and the towering ones who have to be reaching two metres tall and who often carry weapons. There’s the slim, paler people Keris saw glimpses of in the Wailing Fen. There’s even quite a few people with blood from the Realm. It... it almost makes Keris feel at home, being surrounded by people who all look different. For a Nexan girl, even the An Teng docks are far too homogenous.

The local styles are... well. They’re not very covering, to put it lightly. A lot of men and women alike are just wearing sleeveless thin cotton, and short trousers - shorts, really. Tattoos are common, as are piercings. Bluntly, everyone here looks like a sailor, even if they’re manning the stores. They clearly know to dress for comfort in the tropical heat down here. She shifts her own guise to mimic them and starts hitting the local bars, listening in on conversations and charming people into spilling their opinions on the local major players. She’s careful not to let on that she’s new in town; acting as though she knows her way around fairly well and putting together a who’s who from the bigshots and local gangs that people namedrop, rant about and praise.

The local language is a problem. Oh, sure, she can find some conversations - but many people seem to use day-to-day a language which blends Firetongue, Seatongue, Low Realm and some languages she doesn’t even recognise. Still, once she talks to people in Tengese Firetongue a lot of people can talk back.

It’s when Keris - oh, sorry, Little River - makes her way into a slightly more sedate part of town where the people look a lot more Tengese and the drinking and the whoring is happening inside rather than in the street that she really hits her jackpot.

Sloping into a low-ceiling bar that smells of An Teng and which is serving mouth-burningly hot rice for breakfast that Keris really craves - and one of the hidden children in her belly also seems to enjoy, from how they start kicking - she sits down and orders. The fruit wine and the food is great, and she digs in, and easily picks up conversation with a group of simply dressed Tengese women who smell of soap and cleaning products. They’re just coming back from their morning wash in a bathhouse and are having breakfast, and invite Keris to sit with them.

((Basically, you can pump them for info - certainly, most of what’s in the Saata write-up can be gotten from them))

She’s certainly not one to say no to an invitation like that, and spends a productive meal chatting, charming and listening. She learns about House Sinasana and the Dragonblooded who rule the place under the very light hand of the Realm, and a number of different pirate groups that operate out of it - including, to her delight, a misbegotten triad called the Hui Cha.

It’s informative stuff, and Keris gently leads the conversation further towards Tengese settlements here; letting slip the impression that she’s newer to town than perhaps she might seem.

“Oh, we mostly stick to Memory - Memory of a Golden Land, that’s this place between the temple district on one side, the Heights behind us, and the Balime fort over west. The Hui Cha keep this place respectable,” Yellow Duck says, running her hands through her short-cropped hair.

“Yes, we do,” agrees Graceful Shark, who despite her name is a tiny woman. “My husband works night and day, keeping those filthy Steel Dragons out.” She reaches out and pats Keris on the hand. “Are you just off the boat, dear?” she asks, eyes full of concern. “You need to be careful. There’s a lot of disreputable types in Saata. You’re just lucky you found a proper area. If you’d gone into Zu Tak territory, they might have taken you as a slave - or eaten you! They’re cannibals, you know! From that Wailing Fen!”

She lowers her eyes, glances at Keris’ hand, and looks up again. “And a single woman like you should be careful here,” she says, tactfully. “The Hui Cha are here for everyone who’s lost their family, a family for the Tengese - but there are plenty of low dives who’d just use a pretty young girl like you as flesh.”

“Why did you come here?” Yellow Duck says. “Was it because of... well, a man?”

“Duck!”

“Sorry, sorry.”

Keris blushes and looks down, her friendly charm giving way to vulnerability. “I didn’t mean to,” she says, quiet and pitiful. “It was wonderful at first, but then he just... vanished one day, and everyone found out and I... I had to run. I w-was so scared.” She huddles in on herself, allowing an artful quaver to enter her voice. “I didn’t want to join Those Who Serve the Radiance, but I didn’t have anyone else left.” She tosses them a pleading look from under her lashes, and sniffs a little.

Graceful Shark seems to come to a decision, and reaches out to squeeze Keris’ hand. “Was there... a consequence?” she asks, voice tactfully careful.

((Literally flipped for it.))

Hesitating a moment, Keris goes with her gut and gives a tiny, tearful nod. She doesn’t have any reason to be truthful - but neither does she have any real reason to lie, and if she’s going to come back in a different identity, it’ll be nice not to have to hide her pregnancy all the time. Better to know how they’ll react ahead of time.

The other womens’ eyes all well up. “Oh dear,” Graceful Shark says. “Oh, dear.” She looks down. “You can’t be very far along... though you’re so slender!” She purses her lips. “If you don’t mind me asking, what did you do... before? Do you have any useful skills? Can you earn a living here?”

“I was learning silverwork,” Keris offers, a little pride returning. “My father was a smith, though I’m not as good with other metals yet.”

“You can work in metal?” says one of the quieter women - Blue Blossom, Keris thinks her name is. “You can look after a forge and the tools?”

Keris nods. “I was the best in my class,” she says, more confidently. In the back of her mind she’s considering things. Finding a job under this identity isn’t ideal - if she’s going to join the triads, it’s going to be at the top. But this can get her in the door. Then Little River can either tragically disappear or reveal herself to be a Dragonblooded in disguise, if Keris can find an excuse to slip away for a moment and renew her shadow-guise.

Blue Blossom exchanges a glance with Graceful Shark. There’s a meaningful exchange of looks there, and then Shark nods.

“Well, my husband and I are looking for more help. We work in iron, but forge care is forge care,” Blue Blossom says. Keris notices that yes, for all that she’s tiny and quiet, she’s broad across the shoulders - and has tiny burn scars all up her arms. “We can give you a go. And then Graceful Shark can talk to her husband and the Hui Cha can see about adopting you - and your child. I came here carried by my mother who wasn’t in a very different place to you. It’s better that you find honest, decent work like this that means you might still find a good man than you become some cheap tart in the water bars, right?”

Keris decides she likes these women. Whatever she ends up doing, she’ll remember their kindness. “Right,” she agrees with a grateful nod, and considers her time. It’s only been a week or so - she still probably has another week or two before Gajui Narooj arrives. She can afford to spend some at least a few days being introduced from the bottom.

And it’ll be kind of hilarious when she “reveals” herself during the Hui Cha adoption, if she decides to go through with it. She can already hear Echo’s giggling at the thought of their faces.

And so right that day Keris takes up employment as an assistant at a forge. Her job is to do the boring, tedious manual work that is associated with the work they do here. Blue Blossom and her husband seem to spend most of their time making nails, in all honesty. Apparently the ships get through vast, vast numbers of iron nails. And they also make some... well, if Keris is to admit, fairly crude silver pendants that are meant to stop sailors from losing their mind if faeries sing to them out at sea.

It’s desperately hot in here, the fire only adding to the fact it’s almost Crowning Wood. It doesn’t even cool down at night. But at least Blue Blossom lets Keris sleep in a little loft over the forge - though of course, part of the arrangement means she has to be the first up to light the forge and prepare everything for the next day.

That doesn’t matter so much for Keris. She sneaks off when they’re asleep, grabs her nap in the harbour water, and then she has the entire night free to do whatever she wants in Saata.

She’s adjusted her disguise, of course - she now appears to those who can sense such things to be a Water Aspected Dragonblooded; young and relatively weak still, but formidable nonetheless. She’s also quietly advanced the look of her pregnancy - she’s still far from huge, but it’s clear that her clothes and her seated position were misleading as to how far along she is.

Gajui Narooj still hasn’t shown up. Honestly, Keris is seriously tempted to lend him her Cherub Shrine, if only so that he can answer back and tell her how long his slow, slooooow ship is going to take to get to places. It’s enough to make a woman annoyed with him!

The forge work is tedious but simple, and Keris gets it done with a faintly amused half-smile that Blue Blossom will probably think back to later on, half-in her own head as she works. She has enough free time for a little silversmithing of her own, and though she’s careful to keep it within the bounds of human skill, her talismans are still clearly superior to the norm for this place.

“Oh,” says Blue Blossom’s taciturn husband when he sees the first one of them.

Fairly soon afterwards, she’s getting more and more work to do.

And then one day a group of women - Graceful Shark among them - come to visit. Blue Blossom is very serious and obviously nervous.

They’re from the Hui Cha - mostly wives of their enforcers, but also Keris deduces some of them are backroom women who do the accountancy and suchlike. And they’re here to talk to Keris and feel her out.

Keris greets them pleasantly - happily, in fact. Silverwork at this level is only a challenge in deliberately holding back, and she’s fast been getting bored. She’s pretty sure her wide smile comes across as being eager-to-please, though, so she doesn’t bother stifling it.

This will be her first interesting test. She sounds like a young Dragonblood to anyone who can listen - but how good are their assessors at seeing beyond mere flesh?

((She’s disguised as an Enlightenment 3 Water Aspect.))

The women are clearly ceding to one of them. “Little Bird Hui Cha,” she introduces herself as, setting up incense sticks on Blue Blossom’s bare table. She’s dressed in a way which covers up more than the others, in a rich red gown which has golden embroidery. “I’ve heard something of you. I’m sure things have been very hard for you.”

Nodding sadly, Keris begins charming her and, with some prompting, spinning out her tale of woe. She’s careful to keep it largely constructed out of real pieces - Rat disappearing, finding she was pregnant, losing everyone, having to flee - but she skirts around the details.

She takes particular care to leave space for her fictional Exaltation - after she fled, she’s decided, in the process of getting here. A young Terrestrial; soured on An Teng by banishment and still young enough to want to join a family - she’s pretty sure they’ll go for it. The question is, what can _they_ offer _her?_ That’s harder to ask about - they’re pitching their offer to a mortal single mother who needs protection, not a Princess of Earth who’s new to her power - but she can still get an idea of the answer if she’s clever about how she asks.

It’s a very polite little conversation over coca tea. Fortunately Keris has played the game of Tengese conversations and can pass as a local - she’s fairly certain that’s part of what Little Bird is trying to see. She certainly coos over Keris’ refined medallions. Keris does the right thing and offers one as a gift, which of course means that Little Bird acts as if it is completely unexpected and kind and thoughtful.

Then she gets to the point, very very slowly and circuitously. The Hui Cha have heard of her and would like to consider adopting her. She’s clearly good with silverwork, and though she of course owes Blue Blossom a great debt, the Hui Cha would happily settle on her account if she would just come work for them. She’ll be an adopted associate member of the family, and they’ll see to it that no one disrespects her - and she can even have her own shop, since she’s clearly a journeyman in her own right. She’ll work for them, give them fine silver to protect their ships from faeries and Dead things, and they’ll loan her what she needs to get set up.

And, Little Bird says through implication and phrasing, there are certainly a lot of handsome young men in the Hui Cha who would like a respectable woman with her own shop - and attitudes are more lax here. The family doesn’t shun members over minor offences which are - she laughs - all in the past. There are certainly men out there who would understand if she has a child from a previous relationship and as long as she was faithful to any man she married, she wouldn’t have to settle for any less than her due.

Keris doesn’t need to pretend to consider it for long. Above anything else; Saata is most familiar place she’s found in the Southwest so far - the Baisha might be home, but it doesn’t have the same reminders of Nexan life. The Hui Cha are misbegotten; they’re generous and willing to allow her a fair amount of power and wealth even as a mortal.

And... well. She does need people to crew her ships, after all. Thanking Little Bird for the generosity and kindness of her offer, Keris asks what’s involved in joining the triads and when she can do so.

Little Bird taps her fingers together. “You shall have a probationary period while we get you sorted out, and make sure everything goes as it should,” she says sweetly. “And then after a few months, you may get an invitation. If you accept it, there will be... ahem, certain oaths you need to swear to the gods and to your ancestors that make you part of the family. We look after each other, and reward respect with respect - and punish betrayal with betrayal. There is a ceremony, along with any other associates who join at the same time as you. They will become your brothers and sisters, closer than the family who cast you out.” She squeezes Keris hand. “No one gets cast out of the Hui Cha,” she reassures Keris. “No one ever.”

For the first time in the conversation, Keris feels something go sailing clean through her disguise and strike a genuine chord in her. She was half-expecting something like this, and so she’s to able to keep it to a quick indrawn breath and a slight moistening of her eyes as her hand trembles a little, but her answering smile is very much real.

... still. A few months. That’s... tediously long.

“I... may have something more to offer,” she says delicately. “Beyond my silverwork. I wanted to wait until I was sure... it’s not really something that can be unsaid. But you’ve all shown me kindness.” She smiles around at them. “Generosity. Family. I think I can trust you.”

“Well, by all means,” Little Bird says. “If you are to become our family, family should be honest.”

Keris tilts her head, considering the others in the room and judging her chances of doing this in private.

... not high. But hey. She’s here to make an impression.

“I said the trip here was hard,” she said, straightening. Her body language shifts, subtly. Projects more confidence. More strength. “I didn’t say how hard. Or how I got here anyway.”

She shifts her hair out of her face with a negligent toss of her head. “I grew a lot on that journey,” says the woman they know as Little River.

And the aspect markings of a Dragonblood confirm it. Her hair is a wave, rippling and smelling faintly of sea salt, and there’s a too-fluid grace to her movements as she takes in their reactions.

Graceful Shark knocks over the teapot. Little Bird flinches, nearly falling off her chair.

“You... you didn’t say anything about that!” Blue Blossom says, her voice high and squeaky.

“Well no,” Keris says reasonably. “I wanted to see how you’d treat me without it. And you were kind, and generous, and welcoming.” She tips her head thoughtfully. “It was after... after I’d lost everything. I could have gone back, but... I didn’t want to. Not after what happened.”

“I... I had you sl-sleeping in the loft!” she stammers.

Keris doesn’t even try to prevent the grin, though she manages to keep the giggling mostly contained. “And cleaning the forge,” she points out, which gets another mortified squeak. “Don’t worry, I’m not going to get angry at being treated like a mortal. That was the point.”

She takes in their reactions with a practiced ear. Blue Blossom she’s not too worried about. The woman is shocked, but she’s talking - and responding - so she’ll probably get over it and just start treating Keris with embarrassed respect from now on.

No, it’s the other women she’s got her ears trained on. Little Bird especially. _She_ hasn’t said a word, and it’s her opinion that matters. Keris is now a far more tempting recruit - but also a far more dangerous one.

She’s worried. Keris can read that much. She’s very worried about who Keris really is - and why an outcaste Terrestrial would show herself here, rather than go to other Terrestrials. So what if she’s some kind of infiltrator, too? But if she’s not... they can’t turn this down.

Keris suspects that Little Bird is naturally a very cautious woman. She’ll tell her fears to her superiors. ‘Rathan,’ she thinks. ‘I’ll need you to eat as much of her worry as you can, as soon as she leaves. Okay? So she says good things about us.’

“She does seem very mean,” Rathan says judgmentally.

Little Bird is quiet and non-committal, and of course scrupulously polite to the sudden dragonblooded she has on her hands. “Of course,” she says, “this changes everything. I will need to talk to the golden sails, maybe even the blue sea masters. It will be... well, if you are loyal to us, you may well become one of the first among us.”

“I know you’re worried about that,” Keris tells her, the grin fading away to sincerity. “What I want; why I’m here. But I’m still new at this. I’m younger than you are, and when I lost my home, I went looking for a new one. This happened on the way, but... I still feel more like a child of An Teng than of Daana’d.” Her face is honest, open and true. “And I don’t want to go back. There’s nothing left for me there but bad memories.”

“I would love that to be true,” Little Bird says with an attempt to cover up her uneasiness.

A second pot of tea is consumed, and soon she’s saying her farewells.

“We will come looking for you,” she says. “Stay safe, and don’t get in trouble.”

Rathan hums happily as she leaves; working his magic to protect Keris from the mean horrible people who don’t trust her to be perfect like she obviously is.

“You should have put a seed in her,” Haneyl mutters, but the general opinion from Keris’ head is that this went well.

And now there might be some explanations to make to Blue Blossom, who is looking quite shocked still. And is down one tea pot. Keris picks up the pieces and gathers them together for repair. Maybe she can sort of... hmm... use some silver dust in the glue? That might look pretty, and she thinks she remembers one of her art books mentioning something along those lines.

“Please don’t start bowing,” she says into the silence. “Or apologising. I just didn’t want to have every fleet jump at the chance to snap me up and tell me whatever they thought I wanted to hear in order to get me.”

“But I can’t just make you still sleep in the loft,” Blue Blossom says, wringing her hands. “And... and oh, Lord, no! Today’s been such a fuss and I’d meant to get that order done and...”

“Calm down,” Keris tells her, smiling again. “Now that I’m not pretending to be mortal, I can help you finish faster. I like forging. Though yes, I’ll sleep somewhere else until they’re done deciding how much they trust me.”

That seems to be a great relief for her. “So,” she asks, as the two of them head back to the forge. “If you don’t mind me asking, the father... was he from the Realm? And yours too, I suppose?”

“I don’t think my father was,” Keris says, frowning. “One of my grandparents, though... possibly. I don’t remember them very well. As for mine...” she taps her stomach. “No. I grew up with him. We were... well, if we’d waited longer and he hadn’t disappeared, we might have been married anyway.” She sighs sadly. “But we didn’t. And he did.”

She tssks. “You really should have waited... but then again, the passions of the Dragonblooded aren’t those of mortal men,” she says. She shakes her head. “And then I wouldn’t have met you. Hmm. Once we finish for the day, I know someone who runs a boarding house for young women, a good way away from the wharf. Although I suppose you don’t have to worry about men showing you disrespect, but still. Maybe we should go over and I should introduce you to her, if you haven’t found somewhere else. Or the Hui Cha haven’t given you a place.”

“That sounds good,” Keris agrees. “Though I hope you’ll still come out to teahouses with me. You’re a good friend.”

Blue Blossom blushes. “Thank you,” she says.

Things get rather easier for Keris from thereon in. Of course, she finds she’s being followed. Tengese men and women, solidly built, with hidden weapons.

She lets them see her slip into the harbour a few times when the heat gets really sweltering, but this is to be expected from a child of Daana’d. They don’t know that she knows they’re there while she dives and surfaces, investigates the harbour walls and generally plays and has fun. She’s not obvious about it; staying away from the busy parts of the dock, but nor is she particularly stealthy, and it’s clear that she’s not sneaking off on surreptitious business. It’s quite nice, actually, being able to legitimately play around in the water as a proper part of her plan.

She does a little more silverwork, borrowing the use of Blue Blossom’s forge, but it’s not really sophisticated enough to make things she’s genuinely proud of - something she’s pretty sure the other woman picks up on. Mostly, Keris explores more of the city and waits, planning her next move. Induction into the triads gets her the start of a human powerbase, but she needs to way to hasten their acceptance of her. Maybe... maybe it’s time to start turning her mind Haneyl-wards and figure out how to affect more than just flesh with her heart-seeds.

Of the ones she knows about, Keris has managed to find out about three from rumours, whispers, and occasionally sneaking up to places during the middle of the night and listening to top secret conversations with her super-hearing.

Strong Ox Hui Cha has a sizeable fleet and many strong captains under him, but for all his brilliance he is senile - and remarried his third wife’s daughter. His third wife was married for her money, and his fourth wife - the daughter - is now in the position that she is struggling with Ox’s sister for control of him, when she had been intended to be a trophy bride. Either of those two women would appreciate an ally to tilt the balance between them.

By contrast, Jade Fox Hui Cha is solid, dependable, and stable even if he is not truly brilliant. He longs for status, though, and he’s looking to marry his son to a poor-yet-titled Tengese bloodline, bringing their title into his family. He would love for his descendants to bear a proper, _respectable_ Tengese name, not Hui Cha.

Finally, she knows Lucky Wolf Hui Cha is very, very weak. He only has a few ships left, and in truth he’s only still among the blue sea masters because no one has yet had something to gain by disposing of him - which would risk having the stronger of their captains feel like perhaps they have no chance of promotion. He’s a desperate man, in a very weak position.

((How big a difference would Keris’s 17 intact ships be to the Hui Cha? Or, hmm. Ignoring the big four-master, would her sixteen one- and two-masters be equivalent to a blue sea master’s whole fleet, or a large fraction of one, or what? Obviously she’s not planning to just hand them over, or even share them at all yet, but what kind of influence does she have up her sleeve in that context?))   
((From what Keris knows, her fleet certainly outmasses the ships they currently have in harbour. They certainly have far more small ships than her - but their fleets are much more based around a mix of cargo vessels and smaller raiders. Keris’ ships are large, solid oceanic vessels. She isn’t sure how many ships they have out and between the ports, but the Hui Cha aren’t solely based out of this port. She thinks her vessels are enough to make her a peer to the strongest blue sea master, or maybe even the three weakest combined.))   
((... hoo boy. Better than I expected.))   
((Keris has been stealing a lot of big ships. The Hui Chai are a local organised crime / trading syndicate, and they damn well know they can’t make themselves a threat to the Imperial Navy who will crush them given an excuse.))

Keris’s fleet - unmanned and somewhat keruby-tattered as it is - is larger than any of the Hui Cha vessels she’s seen in the harbour. They have more numbers, certainly, but the size and quality of hers mean that she could tip the balance far, far towards whichever blue sea master she allied with, if she shared her ships with them. She could take the weakest of them and turn him into the strongest, if she so chose.

Which is why she’s not intending to do either. That would destabilise the balance they exist in, and it’s a balance that seems to work. She’d much rather slot herself in at the top, and have them captain _her_ vessels; pushing the Hui Cha’s range further out from Saata and partnering them with her Lintha allies. The trick there will be doing it without anyone on either side objecting. And that brings her back to Haneyl.

“Alright, princess,” she says to her daughter in her dreams. “Time to see what else we can make your seeds do.”

Haneyl snuggles up to Keris, sitting on her lap. “Mama,” she says, carefully feeding Keris chocolate that she’s made. “What are we going to do?”

Keris grins.

“We are going to make friends,” she declares. “And influence people.”


	4. Chapter 4

The sun rises hot and bright over Saata. It’s Crowning Wood now, and that means the jungle around the city is bright with colour. The noise of farmyard animals drifts over this city of vice where men act like animals.

This is the first human city Keris has been in since Nexus which never truly stops to sleep, where the noise goes on all through the night. It’s mercifully quieter than Malfeas, but if she’s bored she can always perk her ears up and listen to one thing or another. She’s already ‘helped’ resolve an issue with her next door neighbours where their girl was involved with someone unsuitable who already had several girlfriends on the side.

But that’s just entertaining herself. She has bigger things to do in Saata. Keris knows about street gangs - and the pirate fleets operating out of Saata are basically just bigger versions. She’s well on-track to take over the Hui Cha - she’s offered them power and a way to get one up over their enemies. But if she wants to consolidate her power quickly and decisively to put herself right at the top of the ladder; there’s nothing better than a demonstration.

To that end, she goes out on the town again. Her watchers have been getting lax after days without incident, and it’s kind of funny to watch them scramble as she walks into Zu Tak territory. She doesn’t bother shaking them - though it wouldn’t be hard. It’s not like she has to hide what she’s doing. With her hair up and a harmless cast to her features that they now know hides something a lot more dangerous, she starts gathering information on the other groups operating out of Saata.

She moves fairly quickly, disregarding each and moving on once she’s got enough information to make a snap decision. Some of them are distasteful but too strong. Others she has no grievance with and aren’t localised enough to work. One or two would be perfect if not for being simply too small for anyone to care about.

No, Keris is looking for an acceptable target in that particular sweet spot at the intersection of strength and vulnerability. She wants a group strong enough to be a noticeable player on the board, but weak enough that she can destroy it in one or two nights. And ideally, she wants one that nobody will really miss.

((Do note that you might want to consider actually following those plot hooks about the blue sea masters I provided you, if you want to get some of them on side. Just taking one out won’t get you allies.))   
((And OOC, what are you doing here?))   
((At the moment, Keris knows a fair amount about the Hui Cha but not much about anyone else in Saata. So she’s getting the lay of the land and looking for other groups - particularly rival groups who are at the level of, hmm, minor players. She’s intending, or at least considering, wiping one out fairly early on in her association with the triads as a show of strength. And yeah, I’m intending to have her follow up on their internal politics as well. She’s checking out the other groups first partly because it’s easier to get a broad swath of rumours and general knowledge there, and also partly because she suspects that some of the gang lords in the Hui Cha might guess what she’s intending and she wants to see what they think about it.))

Over the time she’s been in Saata, Keris has managed to get a fairly good idea of the major players in the city. The biggest group is, of course, House Sinasana. They’re a Realm Cadet House, they have around twenty Terrestrial members and they have the best fleet. They’re corrupt and brutal, but the other pirate gangs realise that firstly they can’t take on Dragonblooded like this, and that if someone overthrew them the Realm would take issues with it. Their privateer fleet hunts the Lintha and anyone who steps over the line of the rules that they impose here. Five years ago they wiped out a Saatan gang who they accused of consulting with the Lintha.

The newest and most serious power rising right now is the Steel Dragon Society. They’re made up of dishonourably discharged sailors from the Realm merchant fleet and Navy, led by remnants of House Badera - a Lesser House. They’re brutal, efficient, and Dragonblood trained - but House Sinasana has twenty Terrestrials to the two that the Steel Dragon Society has.

The Zu Tak are an ancestor cult of pirates born from Weeping Fen natives. They sail thin, narrow pirate ships decked with the corpses of their enemies. Ghosts lead the society, and they raid enemies and sacrifice them. They’re crude and unsophisticated, with strange honour codes.

Then there’s the Raraan Ge. They’re local Saatan pirate-lords, and probably the most extravagant ones around. They love their lavish shows of power, and raid the tribal people to the south for slaves. They’re also at war with the Zuk Ta, because the Wailing Fen is an easy target for their ships.

Of the major factions, the last is the Padua Family. They’re hotblooded fallen nobles from the mainland, who lost their ancestral lands and fled to Saata. They are literally hotblooded as well as figuratively, too - they trace their ancestry back to a volcano god. They’ve squandered much of their strength in grudges and feuds, but they’ve managed to reclaim holdings in remote areas. They’re not just pirates - they also run trading ports and depots as feudal lords.

Keris considers her options as she moves into the next phase of her research - the Hui Cha themselves. Strong Ox Hui Cha is the most obvious choice for her to look to for backing - he has a large fleet and strong captains even if his own brilliance is faded. His sister and his wife struggle for control over him, and Keris pays them both quiet visits in the night, away from her watchers. Haneyl is left happy as all three of them get given flesh-seeds, but Keris pays more attention to what she can learn from the documents and materials the two women think are hidden from any investigators.

She finds some rather interesting little things in Strong Ox’s wife’s secret box under the floorboards. Of course she’s trying to have a daughter by him so she can keep control of the line - but the old man seems sterile... and from his bastards, that doesn’t seem to always have been the case. Pale Branch writes poetry and if Keris reads between the lines, she has quite the little crush on Sinasana Temeti, the son of the satrap. However, she’s not about to let this get in her way. For all that she’s small and pretty with a heart-shaped face and soft brown eyes, she’s born to the Hui Cha, and she’s wilful and vicious, willing to do anything for power - even break old traditions or bring in outsiders if it means she gets to control this fleet.

By contrast, Pretty Peacock - the sister of Strong Ox - is very much in the old traditions. Keris finds her personal diary and she detests Pale Branch viscerally as a young upstart who acts like a man and who wound her brother around her finger and who’s taking advantage of the man in his senility. She believes the utmost duty of a woman is to her family and the land-based ways - she’s a conservative. Indeed, she doesn’t like how the families are giving more prayer to the Pale Mistress than the Golden Lord these days and worries about the stability of the Hui Cha. Pretty Peacock is in her middle years, and is married herself, conducting her ways with deliberately copied manners of a Tengese lady. She is still Hui Cha, though - Keris can see the weapons she sleeps with and the guards all through her house.

Keris leaves the house grinning. Pale Branch, she decides, is very much her kind of person, and deserves a visit in person - though perhaps at a date where it’s less obvious that Keris has gone through her room. She waits a couple of days and then quietly ducks her watchers again to catch the young woman alone.

It’s not that hard for Keris to arrange a meeting with her. Oh, certainly, she has bodyguards, but she still eats at restaurants and goes out and about. As the wife of Strong Ox she has an active social life. Indeed, Keris admires her sense of dress - lots of sheer brightly coloured cloth carefully layered to be cool in the humidity, complete with elaborate back-dresses made of the feathers of exotic birds from the far South.

Keris manages to catch her alone in an expensive restaurant in one of the smaller satellite settlements built in the ruins of the Shogunate city, away from the main body of Saata. She’s having lunch with a friend in a private room on the top floor of a six storey building of white stone, looking out to sea. Keris runs up the wall, gives the friend painful stomach cramps from a touch of poison when she’d disguised as one of the staff. The friend has to leave and that leaves Pale Branch Hui Cha eating all alone for Keris to approach her.

“I love your dress,” she compliments as an opening, because... well, she does. It’s pretty. Easing herself into a seat, Keris rubs the bulge of her belly with a wince as her daughter shifts again. She’s been gradually letting her disguise’s pregnancy develop - it’s still not at her real size, but it’s large enough that they’re not too cramped or squashed down in there. And with their quickening, her twins seem to have worked out how to change shape as well as how to wriggle and kick.

It’s difficult to tell exactly what their other shapes _are_ , but Keris is pretty sure that her daughter, at least, has teeth. Sharp teeth. Sharp teeth and claws. Looks like they’ll be as special as Aiko, she supposes. Now if only she’d stop trying to gnaw on the womb-fronds.

“I suppose you’ve heard about me already?” she asks, giving Pale Branch’s plate an interested look and the woman herself a smile. “I was hoping for a chance to talk with you.”

“I don’t know who you are,” Pale Branch says brusquely. “Or what you’re doing here.” Keris can hear her knives in her sleeves and she can also hear the other woman carefully undo the ties holding them to her wrists so they fall into the palms of her hands. “Or how you got past the guards.”

“No? Huh.” Keris is actually a little surprised at that. “My apologies, then. My name is Little River, and I’m soon to be joining the Hui Cha. Little Bird interviewed me, and when I surprised her she decided she needed to talk to the golden sails and the blue sea masters before going ahead with my induction.” She hums. “I did get the impression she was being cautious. Maybe she kept it to a smaller group. Or maybe I’m not as important as I thought I was.” She smiles disarmingly and ducks her head, calling on Rathan to smooth over her manner.

“As for how I got past your guards,” she adds, “that’s the same reason I wanted to talk with you, and the same reason I surprised Little Bird.”

She tilts her head, and once again her hair becomes a rippling wave; the scent of salt filling the air.

Sitting back, the woman tilts her head. “So... hmm. You sound like you have a good reason for being here. Let’s hear it.” She sounds interested. “And you’re not human, are you?”

Little River smiles and nods. “I was, not so long ago. Then I took the Second Breath.” She shakes her head. “But that’s in the past. I’m looking forward now. I’ve heard that you and Pretty Peacock Hui Cha disagree. And I doubt she’d like me much. She’s too much a Tengese traditionalist.” Resting a hand on the swell of her belly, she sighs, and then brightens. “But you... you seem a lot more practical. No clinging to old ways of thought. So I think we might be able to help each other.”

“So can you kill or heal?” Pale Branch asks. Again, she’s very blunt. “Because if you can do either for me, I’m certain I can be a very good friend for you.”

“I can do both and more,” Little River shoots back, delighted at how well this is going. “So why don’t you lead with what you’re looking for?”

Pale Branch smiles. Pulling out one of her knives, she lays it in front of her. “First, we’ll seal this with a blood oath of secrecy, in Her name,” she says. “Then after that, we can swear a blood oath of action if we come to an agreement.”

((... ha ha ha, 9 successes on 10 dice for her social roll to persuade Keris to this.))   
((... fuck.))

Little River hesitates. Not so much because of the oath - such a thing actually helps her, really. No, it’s a somewhat blunter reason.

“... that... may not be... hmm.” She coughs awkwardly, picking up the knife. It’s finely made, to be sure, but... “Uh, how to put this. I’m... difficult to hurt. We might want to use a sharper knife.”

She shifts back in her seat and roots around in the folds of her sari for a moment. “Hold on... ah. Here.”

White porcelain. Seven waves. The emblem of the Heron. A sixteen inch blade whose worth would be visible to a blind man, just from the make and quality alone.

Little River looks faintly sheepish as she lays it on the table. “This is probably the easiest way to draw my blood, if you don’t mind using it instead of yours.”

“Good,” Pale Branch says, clearly admiring the blade. She rolls one sleeve up, and slices her arm on a dragon tattoo that coils around her forearm. There are other scars there. She wets her fingers with her own blood. “I shall speak with no other soul of what happens here. Should the words escape my lips or should I give writing of it to others, let the Pale Mistress take me. Let my life and soul be forfeit to her. You too,” she says. “Wet your hand with blood, and we’ll seal this.”

Little River slices the blade down her arm without flinching, and dips her own finger in her blood. “I shall speak of what happens here to none but us,” she says. “Should I betray this trust by speech, writing or in any other way, let the Pale Mistress come for me in all her fury.” She reaches across and takes Pale Branch’s hand.

“Then we can speak,” Pale Branch says. “I have a problem. And her name is Pretty Peacock. She’s the one stopping me from doing what I want with my senile old fool of a husband. He used to be a hero, but his mind is gone. He listens to that stiff-necked _bitch_.” She balls her hands into fists. “She keeps herself safe and I can’t be seen killing her even if I can manage. And she won’t give up and die any time soon, knowing my luck. She just needs to _die_.

“And you know what else she’s done? I’m sure she’s fed my husband an overdose of Maiden’s Tea. He’s worthless as a man. I can’t have his child since he’s useless down there. That can’t be forgiven. But if she’s dead, that can be fixed later.”

“She _overdosed_ him? Her own brother? Just to get at you and deny you...” Little River tails off into a growl. “Bitch is right. Alright, I’m... not sure if I can fix that, but I can certainly try. And as for her...”

She pauses for thought, keeping an idle ear out for anyone close enough to eavesdrop. “Outright murder will get people looking at you. Does she do any drugs? No,” she dismisses the thought with a wave. “Wrong question. Would people _believe_ that she’d overdosed? On something fatal, or at least mind-ruining? How stuck up is she about sampling the goods?”

“She’s all prim and proper and bitchy like the old ones are. Especially the ones who were born in the old country,” Pale Branch groans. “She’s obsessed with acting all respectable. I don’t know if she has any secret habits. Because they’re secret. If you snuck in here, can’t you just smother her in her sleep or something? Or push her out a window or down some stairs or something?”

“I could, yeah,” Little River says, still deep in thought. “But that’d make it obviously murder. What you really want to do is make it look like her own fault, and do it in a way that casts all her decisions in a bad light, so that people who were following her think you’re the better... uh... option.” She belatedly realises that she’s acting a little too comfortably with the topic of assassination, and shrugs. “I’ll see if I can find a way to get rid of her for you. But in return...”

She leans forward, checking that Rathan’s light is still protecting her. “Look. I’m an Exalt. I’m wasted as a moneylender, and even as a blue sea master I’d only be a help to one fleet out of several. House Sinasana’s Dragonblooded are at the top - that’s what I’m aiming for. A new rank - not a blue sea master, but equal in status, able to think of the triad as a whole instead of just one fleet or a few ships.” She meets Pale Branch’s eye. “Back me on that, and I’ll solve your problem with Pretty Peacock - and see about giving you a place at that table.”

((Per + Pres - and this is a big demand, so Keris is going to want to work to ensure she rolls well and find a high level Principle of hers to play off.))   
((Okay. Keris is promising to get rid of Pretty Peacock and showing willing to give Pale Branch outright control of a fleet - she’s talking about shattering the traditions dictating gender roles, though as a DB she has some leniency there even in mainstream Tengese culture. As far as I can tell, Pale Branch probably has Principles towards power and against Pretty Peacock that she’s playing off there. She’s also got Rathan running with BOT and is flaring her false DB anima at the 1-dot level for emphasis.   
So. 3+5+3 Prince of Hell Style {deserving a place right at the top because of her power as an Exalt}+2 stunt+8 Kimmy ExD {talent for temptation, darkest desires, demands payment}=21. _16_ successes, fuck yeah!))

Sitting back in her seat, Pale Branch runs a finger parallel to her cut. “You’d swear to that?” she says, licking her lips.

“I would.” Keris means it, too. Pale Branch is... perhaps not quite a kindred spirit, but someone she’s definitely willing to have onboard and grateful to her. There are definite similarities between them.

The other woman clicks her knuckles. “Ha! The very top, then. Victory or death. We both triumph or we both fall. We’ll be like sisters. Power for both of us, power to share - and Mistress take whoever stands in our way.”

Keris leaves the meeting satisfied, with another blood oath of action carved down her wrist. Her soul isn’t bright enough for the lacerations to have healed yet, but she’s pretty sure that Pale Branch noticed the way Keris cut deeper than just breaking the skin - and didn’t bleed out or seem pained.

“The fun thing is,” she says happily to Dulmea, “the way I worded my half wasn’t ‘no other soul’, it was ‘us’. Her and me. And I have many souls - you’re all part of me. So I can talk to you about it without even breaking the oath.”

She stretches. “That’s one blue sea master down. There are six or seven, I think - Strong Ox, Jade Fox, Lucky Wolf and... I don’t remember much about the others. Red something-or-other is fighting with a rival, and... Sea Osprey? No, Sea Eagle. All the women said about him was that his wife is rich.”

Chewing on a lock of hair, Keris thinks it over. “Well, I want at least half of them on my side before I try a coup,” she decides. “Jade Fox wants respectability, right? A proper Tengese name for his son to marry into.”

Keris settles down in the mangrove swamps, overlooking the clear blue sea. There are crabs climbing on the trees, as big as her head. She sinks down into meditation, the better to talk to her mother.

Dulmea has been busy. She has made a special room in her tower to help plan Keris’ conquest of the Tengese triads, including her maps of the surrounding area and her things she knows about their trade routes.

And, of course, a kettle.

“Yes, child,” Dulmea says, humming happily as she makes them both tea. “That went well, I think. And yes, Jade Fox wants to obtain respect from ‘proper’ Tengese society - and for that, he wants a title. I suspect you will need to go back to An Teng to organise that, though I suspect Sasimana will be willing to help.”

“My thoughts exactly,” Keris agrees. “But, hmm. I can probably send Sasi a messenger to see if she’s willing. She has enough families indebted to her that she can pressure them into allowing it - and I can help the couple fall in love.” She pauses. “Well, lust. Which is almost as good, for a political marriage. And that gets Sasi a way into Saata!

“Then I can bait Jade Fox with ‘contacts back in An Teng’. Hmm. Yeah, I’m saying that I came from there, and I implied I was of a noble family. I can pull off having connections - and I’m a Dragonblooded now, so they’ll listen to my suggestions when I reveal myself to them.”

She stops, frowns, and shakes her head. “Urgh. Twisty cover stories again. It might be worth coming out as a Green Sun Princess to them at some point, if I can make sure they’re trustworthy. Or, you know, at least ‘more than just a Dragonblooded’ and ‘something Hellish’, so I don’t have to hide everything.”

“I do suspect that someone who wants to be ‘respectable’ in the eyes of the Tengese won’t be so... brash as your new friend,” Dulmea says calmly. “Such an arrangement may take months to set up - and it might be better to find a family and make them pliable to it, and then just put the two in contact. Unspeakable Blue, I wouldn’t like to see you trying to organise a formal wedding all on your own!” She smiles as she said it, but Keris does suspect she means it.

Keris turns her cup to and fro in her hands. “‘Move slow’, huh?” she says. “Fair point - and that would let the Hui Cha get more comfortable with me. Little Bird said my probationary period would last a few months, normally.”

She nods. “Well, I can still send the messenger to Sasi, and plan. And speaking of plans, there’s also...” she glances at one of the boards on the adjacent wall. “... Lucky Wolf. Very weak. Barely any ships left. Easy to snare by getting him some - hush, I wish I could do the debt thing Sasi does - or I could help one of his captains depose him and take his place.”

“I believe the question there,” Dulmea observes, “is whether his weakness is through ill luck - or incompetence. He’s certainly in a weak enough position that a knife may provide leverage with him. Go in another form, offer him silver and jade to obey you and make it clear to the man that you can destroy him if you see fit. I do worry that they would simply reject his replacement as one of the blue sea masters. Even if he is incompetent, his replacement may not be approved among their ranks. If they work much like Malfean lords, you are a lord when other lords accept that you are strong enough that they must call you one.”

“Mmm.” Keris frowns, tilting her head. “If he’s willing to let an outsider buy him, he’s probably not worth buying. I’ll see if I can find out how he lost so many ships - maybe take another form to flirt and chat up one of his captains. But first, Sasi.”

She surfaces, checking the angle of the sun and chuckling faintly. Now she’ll have to warn Sasi off contacting her at any time, too. An Infallible Messenger arriving while she was in a meeting with the Hui Cha would be decidedly awkward. Though she supposes she can have messages sent to Rounen... which reminds her.

“How long has it been, anyway? When do you think Gajui Narooj is going to arrive?”

She frowns. It’s been three weeks or so, and... well, sailing with the Baisha isn’t much help in judging the speed of normal ships, but she got a pretty good idea of how fast Lintha vessels move on her first visit to Kalbada. She’s getting the hang of sea charts as well. So assuming he was ranging somewhere around An Teng as the most likely option...

Given that this area is not friendly to the Lintha - very unfriendly, really, with the Sinasana privateers looking for Lintha heads for bounties - it’s probably for the best that she doesn’t think he’ll be here for around ten days what the current weather. She probably should intercept him further north.

With that in mind, her first Messenger is a quick order to Neride, telling her to bring the Baisha out and come to Saata; staying circumspect and submerged once they get close. Some consultation of her maps turns up a marked reef several dozen miles away, and she tells them to moor there rather than approach a city where she might not be the only seagoing Exalt.

Hopefully she can make a mono-focused idiot-Gale who can forge and not do much else, then leave them doing silverwork for a couple of days while she heads north to intercept Narooj. She can experiment with that while she waits for Sasi’s messenger to get back to her - which will probably take two or three hours, as she’s almost two thousand miles away from her lover here.

She can send one now, though.

“Sasi,” Keris says to her ice-marlin. She’s shed her shadow-guise and sits in the mangroves as herself, though it would take an incredibly perceptive eye to pick her out from the branches she blends into as if she’s part of them. “It’s getting even hotter as the season of Fire approaches, especially down here to the south of you. I’m setting up a little island-harbour that I’ll have to show you someday - but right now my efforts are focused in Saata.”

Her smile comes through in her voice. “This city is _wonderful_ , Sasi! It feels just like home! And the Hui Cha are perfect for me. I’m looking to take them over under the guise of a Tengese outcaste - I already have one of the blue sea masters accounted for and designs on another. A third, though, I might need your help with.

“His name is Jade Fox Hui Cha, and more than anything he wants to marry his son back into Tengese society and earn respectability and a proper name. If you could sway a family to agree to such a marriage, it would give you influence in Saata, and me something to bait him with. I want at least half the blue sea masters backing me before I claim the triads.”

She sighs. “I miss you, of course. Now that I have an identity in Saata, we’ll both have to be careful about when and how we contact each other. You can... mm... probably send messages to Rounen in future if you can’t send them to me. I’ll keep him close by, even if the Baisha has to be moored elsewhere. You can reply to this one, though - I have a few hours free.

“Pregnancy is... urgh. I haven’t become any rounder, thank the Mother, but I still feel heavy and fat and bloated. My disguise is pregnant too - Little River is what they know me as - so I get no relief there. You were right about my twins being special like Aiko. They’ve already learned to shift in shape, though I can’t tell exactly what their other forms are. I think they’re still deciding on them - by shifting and kicking and squirming at the most annoying and uncomfortable times.”

“It will be Calibration soon, though. I’ll get to see you again - and Testolagh.” She scrunches her nose up, but reluctantly admits “... I suppose the three of us _should_ talk; all face to face. Will you be bringing Aiko with you? Have you been studying my keruby? If you’ve learned anything about them, I’m sure Echo would love to have something else to be smug about, and Haneyl always likes hearing from you.

“All my love. Keris.”

She points at the shivering messenger in its eagerness to go. “Carry this message to the demon Boromono, in the service of Princess Sasimana.”

((... omg.))   
((I could have Rounen take _real-time transcripts_ of conversations. Which... hah. Means that secrecy oaths Keris swears don’t count for what he’s written down!))   
((: D : D : D))

Sasi’s message comes after nightfall. Her blue fox appears to Keris, who almost squeals in joy.

“Dear one,” the fox says in Sasi’s voice

“It is wonderful to hear from you. I am delighted that all is well from you and you have found yourself a disreputable pirate den that you feel at home in. No doubt everything is even hotter down there than it is in An Teng - but then again, you may enjoy the sea breeze.

“I must say, I am a little bit amused at the way you are discovering all the uncomfortable things about pregnancy. I remember, dear one, moments when you were less than sympathetic about Aiko. I do not wish to say that I told you so, but I told you so.

“Aiko, incidentally, is quite well. She is crawling now, and has discovered that her dragon form is much better at crawling than her human one. I am trying to ensure that she learns to crawl properly in human form, though, because crawling is a vital step before... well, before her first step. She is missing you, I am sure.

“To business, then. I am pleased that you are getting in with the Hui Cha. With the fall of the Three Flame Society, the misbegotten triads are expanding north and taking over many of their old routes. Not all the Hui Cha pirate lords are based out of Saata, of course, but it is one of their major locations. If you can gain control over them, it will be useful for both of us. They are no Nexan Guild, but their reach is significant and they have wide-reaching influence.

“To that end, I believe ties between them and some of the families I control would be advantageous to both of us. You should come visit me, we can talk these things over in person, and I can make the necessary introductions to some of my debtors. I know of several families who would be willing to marry a pirate’s son if they could get their hands on the pirate’s treasure. We should choose a domain that can be useful for both the Hui Cha and us.

“As for the meeting of us and Testolagh - I plan to take Aiko to the North at the end of Resplendent Fire, when the temperatures are most tolerable for her and she need not fear catching a cold. We will return to Malfeas together. It may be better for us to discuss our relationship back in the City - or perhaps you should come North midway through Falling Fire. I am not sure how your presence would affect Testolagh’s time with his daughter, and he may resent your presence if he feels you are intruding on that.

“But we should talk on that in person. So I will merely say that I hope to see you soon in person,

“With all my love,

“Sasimana”

Pursing her lips, Keris scrawls some quick figures in the dirt. She can cover... perhaps 80 miles an hour, which means... wow. Yes, she could probably make the 2000 mile swim to An Teng in a single day - and even be well rested at the other end! That means she need only excuse herself for two or three days - probably three - and she can even get back in time to catch Gajui Narooj. Hells, she might be able to see where he is en route, if the currents guide her to him.

So. That means she needs a Gale that will hold for three days. Believably. Which is a bit of an issue, since she can still only make idiot-savant ones. After some consideration - and a few experiments - she decides on getting “inspiration” for a new silverworking project and having her Gale essentially lock herself in the forge for three days straight.

And not without purpose, either. She can use it as a way to start one of the projects she’s had bouncing around her head for a while. It’ll need a set of minor Artifact mirrors, forged with nothing but moonlight touching any part of the crafting process - which is a perfect excuse to lock herself away in a dark forge for three or four days. The Gale’s work won’t be on par with Keris’s, of course - but Keris can definitely use it as a starting point to be broken down and rebuilt better.

((... hmm. Do I need to roll anything for them to buy this? Or is this kind of expected from “slightly crazy passionate DB silverworking master”?))

“One disadvantage of not being thought mortal,” Dulmea says dryly. “You can’t lock yourself in a room with a stomach bug. Though... only a few days? Perhaps you could go out on a trip of some kind, for the good of your unborn child - because you read about something that was good for them?”

“Possible,” Keris agrees. “And I’ll probably use that for when I go to meet Gajui Narooj - hah, to make up for that time locked away in the forge. But this will get me a starting point for the mirrors, and I can use _those_ for some genuine baby healthcare. I think my son needs more Lunar essence than he’s getting - I can use a silver mirror array to bathe in the moonlight.”

She sighs. “And probably meditate and spend time with Rathan while I do it,” she adds. “So that he doesn’t get upset about me bathing in the light of another moon. I’ll have to make sure to convince him that it’s just that his little brother is stealing her power to grow up big and strong.”

“Very well. Just tell them that what you’re doing is very sensitive and disruptions could ruin... oh, something or other. You know more about that craft, child,” Dulmea says dismissively.

And it basically just works. The local Tengese don’t have much of the common knowledge that a High Lands community might have - silversmithing is complicated and mystical to them. And anyway, Little River has been doing a very good job so far.

She sends another Messenger to the Baisha before she goes. This one is to Rounen, and tells him and Cissidy to make for An Teng and meet her there. The anyaglo’s speed, Keris estimates, should get her there a little before Keris herself, and Rounen might be useful as a note-taker for her.

Then it’s a day of swimming. She splits it between her souls - five hours with each of them - and trusts the ocean to lead her true. Keris finds the entire swim relaxing, really. She sinks into her running-space mindset and exists in a state of zen tranquility, barely aware of the outside world. She spends most of the time meditating in her inner world, and does divert slightly to catch a giant squid she comes across. She takes its carcass to her inner world on Rathan’s demand, and then has a barbeque with her children.

Haneyl has started playing a game with her, Keris thinks. It’s called ‘try to beat mama in a how-spicy-can-I-make-my-food contest’. Thus far, the score is 5-3 in her favour.

Calesco spends her private time with her mother quizzing her on some of the aspects of Saata’s various trades she’s figured out. Surprisingly - at least to Keris - Calesco isn’t opposed to her takeover of the triads. She’s even willing to accept one or two deaths if they’re absolutely necessary, though she’s predictably annoyed at Keris’s plans to kill Pretty Peacock.

No, what seems to be most on her mind is what taking over the Hui Cha will mean for Keris. There are many ventures under their domain - some legal like trade and protection escorts, others more dubious like drugs - or slavery. It’s a difficult conversation, and while Calesco and Keris don’t come to any final plan by the end of it, they do have a rough idea of what they’re willing to compromise on and what they intend to stamp out.

“It’s not a question of _legality_ , Mama,” Calesco says stubbornly. “Law doesn’t matter. Law is just how people in charge make people do what they want. It’s why Haneyl likes it so much. It’s what’s _right_ that matters.”

“We can’t stamp out everything, though,” is Keris’s response. “It’s a whole city of sin. In some areas, yeah, I’m with you. But in others I think the best way is to control things like the drug trade ourselves and do it in a way that doesn’t hurt people as much.”

She shrugs. “If people _choose_ to addict themselves, that’s their choice, Calesco. We can... I dunno, set up something so that people who want to try and break out of it get help - and pay us back for the help with work that’ll teach them a trade. But we can’t _force_ the right choice on them. If they prefer the drugs... that’s theirs to decide.”

The argument continues through a fair part of the night. Eventually, though, she makes it to the coast of An Teng in the early morning, a Messenger having gone on ahead of her to tell Sasi when to expect her arrival. She’s ordered Rounen and Cissidy to meet her in the same place they met Sasi - Eyes Raised to the Setting Sun.

She gets an enthusiastic lick to the face from Cissidy as soon as she arrives, from chin to hairline. The angyalo enthusiastically prances around her, rubbing her satin-soft flank against Keris’s skin.

Her steed is clearly happy to see her.

Rounen seems no less happy, and proudly presents her with a collection of stories he wrote for her. He seems to have been quite bored, if she reads between the lines, and he’s been stalking after individual crew members and writing stories about them. Though not about the scary one with the blue face. He doesn’t like that one at all. She kisses him on the forehead and agrees that the Priest is indeed scary - and vaguely considers sending him back into the Domain to see if he can get his hands on a copy of Elly’s story about Haneyl meeting Sasi.

... perhaps later. For now, with an immaterial pair of demons following her, she heads upriver to the residence in the Middle Lands that Sasi is occupying.

This is the first time she’s seen Sasi’s new residence. It’s considerably larger than her townhouse in Dragon’s Jaws - that’s for certain. It’s a palatial rural estate, surrounded by farmland and peasant villages. Keris smiles to herself. It’s very Sasi. She does like her comforts.

The centre of the estate occupies a walled island in the centre of a narrow island, the river diverted to flow either side of it. Swimming up to it, Keris ghosts unseen over the wall and creeps through the house until she finds Sasi.

Who is asleep.

Honestly, Keris can’t say she’s surprised, given the hour of the morning. Her lover looks... tired, but a bit less so than she was. Maybe the little br- maybe Aiko is letting her sleep better. Like a good daughter. Who is not a tiny monster.

... speaking of tiny monsters, where is she?

The tiny monster, Keris discovered, is in bed with her mother. There’s a baby dragon in Sasi’s bed, coiled around her right arm. Keris eyes her warily, in case she wakes up and a) screams, b) spits fire or c) bites. All of which she knows are valid options from Aiko’s time aboard the Baisha, which is fairly impressive given that she was only there for _two damn days_.

“Rounen,” she murmurs. “If she wakes up, distract her. Read her a story or something. Have a fire-spitting contest. Dangle a ribbon for her to bite. Just... keep her occupied.”

“She looks like a tar-cherub sometimes,” he says, the cool fire of his head casting light in the room. “But now she doesn’t.”

“... she does, doesn’t she?” Keris realises. “At least in her human form. I suppose... well, Calesco did make the Dragon’s shadow-disguises part of her. And Sasi knows far more of those secrets than I do. I suppose that’s where she inherited them from; same as getting Ligier’s fire from her father.” Very, very cautiously, she extends a lock of hair forward to stroke the little dragon’s crest. “Makes you wonder what mine will be like, huh? It’s hard to tell through all the ice and fronds in there.”

“Um. So what should I do with a tiny cherub like her?” Rounen asks innocently.

“I don’t think she’s _actually_ a cherub,” Keris retorts, amused. “Unless you mean literally a baby cherub?” She frowns. “Do you even have different ages? Can you grow up? You look like children...” She lifts his chin with a finger, gently, “... but you’re not really _weaker_ than most adult demons.” She laughs softly with a rueful grin. “So much I still don’t know about you all. Urgh, how Echo managed this I’ll never know.”

Unfortunately, Keris’ talking and Rounen’s light have set the little monster off. She shifts and starts to wail, a high thin keening that sounds far, _far_ too much like the noise of the Pyrian crystals for Keris’ comfort.

“... urgh, Aiko, darling, please don’t...” Sasi moans. She blinks. “Is it dawn?”

“It’s close,” says Keris, wincing. “Okay, hold on...”

She concentrates. Her caste mark appears on her forehead; the green brand briefly attracting the wailing Aiko’s attention.

Then all the sound disappears at once. Keris nods happily. That’s _much_ better.

Keris, mouths Sasi. She also cannot speak in the area. What are you doing here? And what are you playing at?

Saata, mouths Keris. Hold on...

“Here, mama!”

A sweep of her hair, and Keris produces a box of Haneyl’s chilli chocolates. These aren’t particularly spicy ones - at least by Haneyl’s standards - and Keris nods at Aiko meaningfully before offering the box to Sasi to test one.

Sasi pinches her brow, glaring at Keris, and clutches Aiko to her chest, crawling out of bed. She deliberately leaves the aura. “You, stay here,” she says firmly to Keris, holding her crying baby. She rocks Aiko back and forth. “You are sleeping on the bed. And we will talk in the morning. I am going to take her through to a guest room, quieten her down and then I am going to make sure she gets her sleep. Couldn’t it have waited until morning?”

Keris is left sitting on the bed, a wailing baby next door. Aiko is, she decides, the most evil baby ever. Now she can’t even just come join Sasi whenever.

“Unfair,” she complains sadly to Rounen. “So very unfair. I was even trying to keep my voice down!”

He pats her leg sympathetically. Keruby, she suspects, don’t really understand grown-up things like babies and... well, the annoying things they do to a relationship between grown-ups. Like her and Sasi.

Pouting, she pulls out her notes on her Lunar essence mirrors and has Rounen start to copy out a starchart for her as she sketches possible angles. She’d think of something to get back into Sasi’s good graces, but... well, she’s sort of fresh out of presents at the moment, and Sasi is morning-grumpy.

... though, actually.

“Haneyl? Could you make Sasi some really really super-good tea? Or that bitter wake-up drink that you and Calesco came up with?”

“I can do _both_ ,” Haneyl declares loudly.

... it’s not enough to get Keris un-banished from the bed, but at least Sasi drinks the compromise gifts. Hopefully she’ll be feeling better in the morning. Without her evil cunning clearly-takes-too-much-from-the-Ebon-Dragon baby plotting against her.

Hopefully.


	5. Chapter 5

Keris is not the happiest of bunnies when she comes down to breakfast - which is actually lunch for her, because in a household run by Sasi breakfast comes at around midday. She is even less happy with the fact that Sasi is carrying a certain evil wicked baby around with her in a sling, who’s peacefully sleeping with a look of contentment on her face.

It’s probably smug contentment.

She grumbles under her breath for a moment, then clears her throat. “Um. Sorry about... last night.” It is not the most sincere apology ever made, but it’s verbal, which is something. “Do you have anything you need to do today?”

Sasi looks up from the melons she’s digging into. “Nothing major,” she says casually. “I was mostly going over notes from some of my spies, and then this evening I was going to work on Aiko’s mobility. I’m worried her development of the ability to walk might be delayed if she spends too long crawling around as a dragon, so I’m going to see if I can coax her into staying human and practicing walking while I hold her upright.”

Keris wrinkles her nose at that, but nods. “Okay. I’d... sort of like to summon Dulmea for this planning session, but that would mean waiting until the evening and I’m not sure how long I trust my Gale to not screw up.” She pauses. “Actually no, I am sure, and it’s not long at all.”

“Oh?” Sasi asks, eyebrows fluting up as she checks her daughter’s brow and adjusts the thin blindfold that’s covering her eyes.

Keris nods absently. “She’s got a lot of the maps of the region and the information we’ve gathered set up in a planning room in the Spire, and she’s got a better head for running a house than I do.” She rubs a few strands of hair between her fingers thoughtfully. “It was a day getting here, a day back... well, I can probably leave a bit before dawn tomorrow. So we can just start with the An Teng planning, I guess, and move onto Saata at sunset?”

Sasi nods. “Well, either way, we should get as much done as possible before Aiko wakes up. So, where to begin?” She begins peeling grapes with her mind, flensing their skin off telekinetically, and then popping them into her mouth one by one. Playfully, she tosses one at Keris.

Perking up slightly, Keris snaps it out of the air and savours the taste. “I can start by giving you what I have on Jade Fox - the more you know, the easier it is to find a matching house. Dulmea?” There’s a longer-than-usual pause as Dulmea takes the scroll down from the planning room wall, and Keris accepts it to spread across the table.

“Rounen,” she says over her shoulder. “Could you take down what we say here so that we have a record to remind us? Two copies, please.”

Rounen’s face lights up with glee at the prospect of _writing_. Literally lights up, too. His head-flame inside his bud burns brighter. “Right you are, mum,” he says, shuffling paper as he begins to take notes.

Peeking over his shoulder, Keris notices that he’s started with suitably flowery descriptions of Keris, Sasi, Aiko, the room, and the grapes that he’s ‘borrowed’.

She chuckles fondly, then gets down to business. “So, Jade Fox. I haven’t had the opportunity to meet him yet, but I’ve heard things. He’s stable, solid - dependable, even if he’s not brilliant in the way Strong Ox apparently used to be. He’s intent on marrying his descendents into a Tengese family, and I’m guessing from how much he wants to be respectable that he probably leans conservative as well.”

Pursing her lips, Keris slows a little as she continues. “I get the impression that he doesn’t like bearing the Hui Cha name, and that’s... that’s interesting, because they do _not_ look kindly on those who want to leave the family. He probably intends to bear another name but still be part of the triads, but it’s still not what you might call loyal to the family name.”

“Hui Cha is an archaic Tengese perjorative,” Sasi informs her. “It hasn’t been used commonly in a few hundred years, but it means...” she waves her hand, “... lout. Ruffian. Low-rank violent criminal. From what you say, they’re using it as a family name? How strange. I suspect ones born into it - was he born into it? - might consider it more like a classic family.”

“He’s a blue sea master; right at the top of the hierarchy, but I don’t know how their promotion works - whether an adopted outsider can make it to the highest ranks,” Keris shrugs. “... well, I mean, they can, because I’m going to. But I don’t know if a mortal could do it by following their rules, instead of taking over and changing them to make it allowed.”

“Well, that’s another thing. There is... space in Tengese tradition for someone seeking vengeance against a rival family to bear a false name,” Sasi says, with a shrug. “He might be planning to claim it’s a vengeance against Tengese society. If he’s wealthy enough or powerful enough, they might accept it rather than cause a fight.”

“Hmm. Fair enough.” Keris considers for a second, her head tilting in a bird-like motion. “Well, he’s clawed his way up to blue sea master and he’s not dead - and I know this stuff just from what I’ve overheard. So we’ll assume he has a way to justify it to the family. But... yeah, probably best to assume that he’s more conservative than not, if he cares about that sort of thing. So.”

She cracks her knuckles, leaning forward. “What _I_ get out of this is fairly simple - I get his backing, and I get a route into An Teng for my triads.” She’s utterly unselfconscious about referring to the Hui Cha as hers. “What are _you_ looking for? If it’s mostly trade and smuggling, I should tell you that I’ve got one island-harbour about... mm, five hours south of Nightfall, and I’m planning on making more all down the coast. I could funnel a steady stream of goods up from south of the Wailing Fen, with my junks - they’re built for long-distance ocean travel.”

Sasi sits back, steepling her fingers for a moment. And then shifts to support her daughter’s head properly with her hands, which is a much less classically sinister position for someone to take. “You want the Hui Cha, dear one,” she says. “I also want a stake - or at least control over their contacts in An Teng. With the Three Flame Society destroyed by the Dead in Buk Moi, the Hui Cha are taking over a lot of their old routes - as I believe I said to you, yes? The Three Flame Society were too established for me to get easy control, but between the two of us, we can guide the Hui Cha to become the regional trading power. They’re much more useful than letting the Lintha get those things.” She sniffs. “Stupid self-mutilating inbred pirates.

“And you take Saata, and I’ll take An Teng. I’ll help your Hui Cha make contacts with the remnants of the Three Flame Society so we can take over. We’ll build ourselves a local version of your Nexan Guild - only we’ll be the ones in charge.”

Keris nods slowly, warming to this idea. “You’d be... okay, no, I’m not making that comparison, but you’d be the one overseeing it in and around An Teng, while I’d deal with it further afield, yes? That sounds good. Though I may try to bring the Lintha on - at least some of them. They were beautiful, once. I want to see if I can get some of that lost beauty back. And they might not be Dragonblooded, but they’re better than mortals.”

“As long as I don’t have to talk to them,” Sasi mutters under her breath.

Smiling, Keris pats her on the hand sympathetically. “I’ll keep them away from you,” she promises. “Selling the Hui Cha on them... can come later, honestly, once I’ve beaten some of the stupid out of them. And speaking of introducing groups to the Hui Cha; who’ve you got in mind for Jade Fox?”

Sasi smiles. “The Joyful Wave family lives in the South, close to the edge of the principality. They’re a coastline family - technically a viscountcy, though they’re greatly reduced over what they once were. After a bad storm last year the sea broke their embankments and now much of their land is ruined and salted. They need money, they’re coastal, and they’re about as far as you can get from Dragon’s Teeth while still being in An Teng. And,” she adds, “they have two daughters - one fifteen, one eleven. The eldest is on the young side for an engagement, but the family is desperate. I’ve been letting them delay any marriage through loans as they get more and more in my debt.”

“Jade Fox’s son is... oh, I know this... Dulmea?”

Dulmea sighs. “He is twenty-one, child - and his name is Stone Fox, to pre-empt your next question.”

“Stone Fox, twenty one years old,” Keris reports happily. “Six year age gap, that’s not too bad.” Her eyes linger on Sasi for a moment. “Barely anything, really. I’ll keep an eye on her if she settles in Saata. As to- oh, hold on.”

She rummages around in her soul again, eventually coming out with a set of scrawled notes that... would have been a lot better had Rounen been there to write them up for her, she sighs mournfully. “Okay, here. This is the identity I’m wearing in Saata - and it’ll be a long-term one, so it’s probably best to get familiar with it.”

Paging through the scrawled notes - which are more a stream-of-consciousness scattershot of ideas than a formal history, she points out sections here and there. “Her name is Little River; a Tengese outcaste who got pregnant by a childhood friend who disappeared and never came back. Her family exiled her, and she fled An Teng rather than join Those Who Serve The Radiance. En route to Saata - and I’ve been cagey about how long that took or what happened on the trip - she took the Second Breath as a Water Aspect. She could have gone back, but the exile pretty much burnt any goodwill she had for her family, so now she’s looking to make a name for herself in the Hui Cha.”

Behind her, she hears Rounen squealing quietly in glee, and grins. “Yes, you can write up some ideas for things that might have happened on her trip to Saata,” she tells him. “I choose what gets included, though.”

Turning back to Sasi, she nods. “So I’m thinking that... hmm. I can probably convince him that I have a few friends left in An Teng - ones who might not be so quick to reject me now that I’m an Exalt. Would that work as a way to introduce him to the Joyful Wave?”

Sasi nods. “Maybe part of my network helped you get out of An Teng?”

Keris snaps her fingers. “That’s a good one. That’s a _very_ good one, yes. I’m using that.”

“Mmm.” Sasi bounces her daughter up and down. “You’re looking even bigger, you know.”

“Uuuuurgh.” Keris leans forward to bang her head lightly on the table. “You know they’ve started shapeshifting now? Oh, uh, Rounen, no need to take this bit down. But yes, they’re already too strong to be human. And I think my son needs more Lunar essence than he’s getting - I’m working on some silver mirrors in Saata at the moment that should be able to focus moonlight for me to bathe in. _She_ , on the other hand, has been fed... three? Yes, three Solar Exalted, I think, so she’s mostly hungry for more fire essence. You don’t even want to know what kind of food I’ve been eating. Literally, I think some of it might actually cripple a mortal’s tastebuds.”

“... I see,” Sasi says. “Well, please warn me when I might make the mistake of kissing you when you’ve been eating... Dragons only know how strong chillis. At least I wasn’t like one of my cousins, who had to do that every day for years because he clearly had fire within him. The diet they fed me to try to encourage my inner earth at least wasn’t raw chilli.”

Keris cracks a grin. “Well, it’s keeping Haneyl happy. She’s even better at growing things now that I’ve learnt to make jungles, so she’s very happy about that. And Rathan is considering whether Luna is a mean moon that we should hide from in case she gets jealous of him being prettier than her, or whether we should be _making_ her jealous because we’re better.”

“That is a very you thought,” Sasi says sweetly.

Pouting at her, Keris sticks her tongue out and huffs. Still, the talk of her own children has sparked her curiosity, and she shifts round the table to get a better look at Aiko. “What about her?” she asks, extending a very cautious lock of hair to adjust her fringe. “How old do they usually... like, when do they start talking, and not just being loud and bitey and upset all the time?”

“It varies from child to child,” Sasi says calmly. “Aiko is at the age where she’s starting to babble. It’s not quite words yet - apart from ‘mama’, of course - but in a few months, she’ll talking in a very simple way. It gets a lot easier past then. I think babies get frustrated easily, and when they can say ‘food!’ it’s much, much easier for everyone.

“It takes until two or so for children to consistently string words into sentences.” She frowns. “Well, normal children. But so far Aiko isn’t too much unlike any of my others, so I think she’s going to be fairly human-like when it comes to speech. I hope so, at least.”

“... Haneyl did that,” Keris says, the memory hitting her vividly. “When... the very first time she appeared - well, appeared to me; the first time I saw her. I took her to see Dulmea, and she tried to talk but couldn’t yet, and she got... really upset. She kept trying to force words out, even when I said it was okay and she’d just have to practice a bit more.”

“Mama!” Haneyl almost explodes in Keris’ head. “Don’t embarrass me!”

Sasi is smiling. “How cute. And yet quite strange, that a demon is born not able to speak.”

“She was very brave,” Keris adds to mollify her daughter. “She didn’t know who I was at first, but she made a... huh. She made a little clearing for me, like a landscape painting of the city.” She considers this for a moment. “I... think that means she was changing the landscape at a younger age than Echo was. And that she was, um. Shaping my soul-sanctum before she could talk.”

Sasi nods. “I see. Well, I think I’m going to tuck her up, and then we can go into the study and hash out the arrangements, yes?”

“Right,” Keris agrees. “And see if we can put some more depth into Little River. I’d feel a lot more comfortable if there was something for people to find if they went looking.”

The technical minutiae of the plans take up most of the day, and Rounen has produced a thick sheaf of pages by the time Keris takes a break as sunset approaches. Deep within Sasi’s manor, in a cellar not unakin to the one in her Shore Lands residence, she goes through the by-now-familiar rite of summoning, and pulls forth a demon she’s only summoned once before.

“Child,” the Dulmea-gale says to her with a slight but warm smile. Her expression as she turns to Sasi is more guarded, and she bows her head respectfully. “Princess Sasimana. Greetings.”

Sasi’s reaction is disappointing. “My goodness,” she says, raising her eyebrows.

Keris pouts. “It’s getting harder to surprise you,” she complains playfully. “I used to be able to make you speechless.”

“Dear one, the fact that you have managed to manifest a once-First Circle as a First Circle is not the greatest surprise.”

While Keris mutters sullenly, Dulmea relays her own observations of Saata and the local powers around it - including the rival groups that compete with the Hui Cha for trade; a topic Keris hastily weighs in on with her plans to bring one of them down as an immediate prelude to her official takeover of the triads.

“Be careful that you don’t bring the Realm - which is to say, House Sinasana - down on you,” Sasi warns Keris. “They will notice a ‘Dragonblood’ among them. And may try to kill you if you will not join, if you look like you might be a rival. Wiping out an entire pirate fleet means you are a game-changer.”

“Hmm.” Keris rubs her nose. “That’s why I was intending to go for a small one. Big enough that it’s impressive and intimidating, but small enough that it’s not beyond belief for a Dragonblood. If I can find or plant evidence that would have had the Sinasanas doing it anyway, that’s a bonus that gets me some goodwill from them and has them think of me as an ally.” She chews her lip, considering. “I’ll talk to you and Dulmea before actually doing it, though. You make a good point about not shaking the boat _too_ much.”

Sasi telepathically pokes Keris in the nose. “You, learning caution?” she asks. “Is your hair turning grey too?”

“Yes,” says Keris with melodramatic grief, holding up a lock of hair that squirms into greying vines at the ends. “These twins are aging me before my time, Sasi. I’ll be bent double and hobbling by the time they’re born. I might have to use my spear as a walking stick!”

“Now, now, pregnancy doesn’t do that to a body,” Sasi says, face straight. “It just makes it feel like it. Do you have morning sickness? I had terrible morning sickness when I was human, but I didn’t get it at all as an Exalt.”

“... not really, no,” says Keris. “Well, I mean, I sometimes feel queasy, but not in the mornings. And not because of being sick. More from what my boy is making me crave as food.”

“Oh dear,” Sasi says sympathetically. “My eldest gave me a dreadful craving for pork crackling. I can’t stand the stuff.”

Keris gives her a Look. “His father was the ambassador, Sasi. He’s making me crave rotting meat.” She shudders. “Which I’m not eating; no way. I could find another shadowland and inhale the ghosts there; feed him those. But... I’m just not sure how much I want to bolster that side of his nature.”

“I suppose I can read up on it,” Sasi says, worry in her voice. “Though, I fear there may be nothing in the books. I suspect you are the first Green Sun Princess to have a child by a Dead Exalt.”

She pauses.

“That was a capital D there. You are also having a child by a dead Solar Exalt,” she adds.

Keris shrugs unconcernedly, then pauses. “Yes,” she says, quietly. “That - in fact, both parts of that - we’re going to keep quiet. I may not bring them to Malfeas at all, after they’re born.” The look she pins Sasi with is, for once, an outright order. It breaks a moment later as she frowns. “Ach. Little River is pregnant, too. And her childhood friend was Tengese. I’ll have to find... I dunno. An orphan to adopt? There’s no way these two are going to pass as Little River’s to the Hui Cha.”

“Well, you should have some time to arrange things,” Sasi says. “I’m sure you’ll grow strangely attached to some Tengese child at some point and take them home with you.”

((oh, sasi. so sassy.))

She pauses. “Of course, I will keep my ears open for any families who might find their daughters in... trouble, and might want the child to disappear. Especially if the father truly is a Terrestrial.”

Keris nods. “Perfect. Oh, and I thought I might... if she’s okay with it... leave Dulmea here with you for a while? She might be able to help you with summoning rituals for my citizens, since she’s in charge in there.” A glance at Dulmea shows no objections from her to this, and Keris hurries on. “And since I need to leave before dawn, and I think we’ve gone over everything that needs saying...”

She tilts her head coquettishly. “We could spend the time until then having more fun than just planning our next moves?”

Her girlfriend smiles. “Then I will see to Aiko and leave her with her carers.”

A tired but happy Keris, accompanied by a gleeful Rounen on anyaglo-back, leaves An Teng an hour before dawn and heads back south. She doesn’t take a straight-line path towards Saata, but rather heads in its general direction, listening to the murmurs of the ocean and keeping her ears open for any ships. She doesn’t intend to make contact with Gajui Narooj on this leg of her journey, but knowing where he is will be important. An Infallible Messenger gives her his rough heading once she’s out of An Teng proper, speeding on its way to inform him that the patrols around Saata are regular enough that she’ll meet him to the north of the pirate city.

He’s not too far away - far from it. Perhaps a hundred miles north, in the sargasso-choked sea He’s brought a fast light force of three ships - a sleek two-master and two light one-masters. Keris continues on to the reef she told Neride to moor the Baisha at. With Rounen at her heels, she gives her captain a brief summary of her plans and takes her ship out to intercept the Lintha vessels. The Baisha stays underwater on her orders, and she smiles as she takes a quick bath and then dons her Lintha disguise once again, taking care to get the details right.

“This,” she tells Rounen, “is going to be fun. I want you to stay immaterial... mmm. Though he’ll be able to see you, won’t he? Well, he won’t be able to hit you, so stay that way anyway. We’re pretending I’m a Lintha, so don’t give the game away, and take notes on what we say.” She hums thoughtfully. “If you can remember them and write them down in full later, that would be best, but you can take short notes while we’re there if you need to.”

It doesn’t take long for the Baisha to reach his ships, and Keris coaxes Rounen onto her shoulders and swims up to the two-master, pausing before she boards to locate Narooj.

It’s swelteringly hot out here. The captain is beneath shade under the canopies, being fanned by a slave. The wretched naked figure is clearly a eunuch.

Keris’s hackles rise, but she settles them forcibly in favour of appearing from apparently nowhere.

“Brother,” she greets him, the green brand burning on her forehead.

Narooj starts and goes for the hooked swords at his belt, swearing - before he gets a grip on himself.

((not good temperance, this man))

She smiles. “Well met, brother. I’m glad you’ve come. I have been away for half a year, and you will want to see the results of my work before we speak.”

((Per+Pres))   
((3+5+3 Prince of Hell Style {given what she’s planning}+2 stunt=13. 10 sux.))

He flinches before Keris’ presence - not to mention the burning circle on her brow and the fact he just shamed himself in front of her. “As the Great Mother wishes,” he says.

She nods regally. “Then reef sail and slow your ships. I will return soon.” She motions him up to the bow, steps out along the bowsprit with effortless balance... and then steps off entirely, vanishing into the depths. As she sinks down into the depths, she sees the hulls begin to slow, and hopes that Rounen is watching their faces as closely as ordered.

Her descent takes her down to the Baisha, keeping pace with the Lintha ships fathoms below and she nods to Neride through the bridge window before flitting up to stand on the highest point of the superstructure. She feels the thrum of the engines as her ship speeds ahead of Narooj’s, and then sudden pressure against her feet as it begins to rise.

Her Helmsman is a genius. He really is. She breaks the surface mere metres in front of the lead ship’s bow, where Narooj is still watching the waters, and rises until she seems to be standing on the very waves themselves; the superstructure hidden inches below the surface and obscured by the sea foam. Without moving a muscle, she moves away, drawing further and further ahead of him.

And then she _rises_ , as an impossibly vast shape breaches the waves under her feet. A towering structure the likes of which haven’t been seen in Creation for an Age - followed by a hull longer than all three of Narooj’s ships combined, which goes up and _up_ and _up_...

With a perfect swan dive, Keris clears the side of the ship and vanishes into the waves, leaping from them like a dolphin a moment later to land on Narooj’s bowsprit again. Brine drips from her hair and fire crowns her brow as the Baisha turns behind her to present its broadside to the Lintha ships.

“Well, brother?” she says wickedly. “What say you?”

((I was right. That was fun.))   
((Roll Keris’ Per + Expression for setting up SUCH DRAMA VERY WOW))   
((Tee hee hee. 3+5+3 Prince of Hell+3 stunt+4 Malfeas ExSux {excessive displays of obvious force, awe and terror, authority over all things wise enough to bow, lol such malfeas wow}=14. 6+4=10.))

As one, the Lintha on the vessels fall to their knees, prostrating themselves before the revealed princess of hell itself. Keris can hear every heartbeat pounding like a gnat’s wings. She lets that tableau stand for a moment, savouring it and basking in the radiant awe. Then she steps forward.

“Stand, Lintha Gajui Narooj,” she commands. “Come. I will show you my ship, and we can talk of the Great Mother’s wishes.” A motion to the bridge has the Baisha settle lower into the water; level with the deck of Narooj’s two-master. Keris beckons Rounen to her and hops onto the brass-plated deck with ease. Rounen is showing remarkable amounts of confidence as he almost saunters behind Keris, staring down at the Lintha with narrowed flame-slit eyes. It is the raw arrogance of the sziromkerub who just wrote the bestest best story ever and who knows that the best scary person ever knows his name and considers him a trusted underling.

Narooj, for his part, is trying to look confident.

(1 success))

It’s not really cutting the mustard.

Keris leads him - on what is perhaps a longer route past more demonic crew members than is _strictly_ necessary - to her throne room. It’s not quite as big as it could be, because space is at a premium on a warship, but Ligier was very understanding about the need for a glorious room with a throne whose every square centimetre of wall, floor and ceiling said “the person sitting in this throne is Better Than You Are and not to be trifled with”.

Keris settles into the grand chair comfortably and accepts an apple from one of her angyal twins.

“This is the Memory of Baisha,” she says after Narooj has had enough time to get an intimidating overall impression of the room but not enough to actually drink his fill of the details. “For the past season, she has been destroying Realm trading ships up and down the southwest coast - including an Imperial fleet led by a four-master that had a Dragonblooded crew.”

She pauses long enough to see the light bloom in his eyes, and continues. “However. She needs fuel - specifically hearthstones - and here I find myself with a task that the Lintha can carry out for me. I need a manse, aspected to the Great Mother and as high-grade as possible. Do you know of such a thing, Lintha Gajui Narooj?”

He shifts, nervously. He is... well, he is broken. The entire place is overwhelming him. And the green-skinned, red-eyed, white-haired woman before him is a figure out of myth and legend.

He swallows. “I... uh, well, there are a few holy places, but there aren’t many. Th-th-that reef you met us on is one of the p-pure holy places. But there... there ain’t many manses.” His Old Realm is even worse than usual.

Keris nods, pleased. “We will have to see about building one, then,” she says, switching to Firetongue to help him. “Now. You know of Saata. The destruction of the Three Flame Society has left a gap that many fleets are scrabbling to fill. Among them, the Hui Cha.” She stands... and shifts, her shadow flowing oddly over her body to leave a woman who is vaguely similar in the most general of details - her build, and a certain set to her jaw - but who is black-haired and golden-skinned; clearly Tengese. The green brand on her forehead dims, and her hair becomes the crashing wave of a Dragonblood.

“They will be mine,” she says. It’s not a prediction so much as a statement. “And they will grow to replace the Three Flame Society as the main trade network of the Southwest. With me at their head in this guise, the Lintha can benefit. They know me as Little River - a Tengese outcaste exiled from the satrapy before she exalted.”

“Yes! Yes, my lady, yes!” He pauses. “But... but how do you manage to fool them?”

Keris scoffs, but her grin shows her pleasure at his obvious awe - and amusement at the subject. “I can appear as any lesser being if I wish - human, Lintha or demon; mortal or god. Even Dragonblooded, should I choose to hide the truth of my essence.” Her smile fades a little to a contemplative look. “From such heights, the differences between them almost seem... well.”

She shakes her head. “Suffice to say that there are few who could see through this disguise - and those that can will most likely be Anathema of the Sun or Moon, with as much or more to fear from discovery.”

Cracking her knuckles, she motions for him to follow again. “Come. See the riches the Baisha has seized in a single season of raiding.”

She leads him to the cargo bay - again taking a somewhat roundabout route. In his dazed state, he’s probably not up to keeping an internal map straight, and the longer route will give him an impression of the ship being even bigger than it is, while also cutting down on his effective knowledge of its interior. Walking into the cargo bay seems to stun him yet again, as Keris casually motions at the piles of riches stacked like ordinary cargo.

“Ah ha,” he says. “That is... that is a good haul, even by my standards. Not the best I’ve seen, though.”

((3 successes means it r not a vry good lie))

“Well,” says Keris sweetly, cackling inside, “I wouldn’t dream of sailing to Bluehaven with anything less than the greatest hoard ever brought to its shores. So I suppose I will merely give you a small portion of this wealth as a gift, and continue to gather more.”

She is, she decides, _really enjoying_ being on the more powerful side of an interaction between an Unquestionable and a subordinate. Because that’s what this feels like. He’s looking at her like... like she looks at Ligier and the Shashalme. As someone who could snuff him out with ease, and whose wealth and power are beyond his ability to comprehend. He’s picking his words carefully so as not to offend or disappoint her, and when she looks pleased or happy he relaxes. Mischievously, she makes a mental note to send Sasi Rounen’s story about this meeting. She’ll no doubt enjoy it.

Haneyl, meanwhile, _is_ the voice cackling with glee inside her head. And Rathan, too. In fact, she can’t really tell the two of them apart right now.

... oh wait, now she can. Haneyl has just realised that they’re giving up some of the treasure and isn’t laughing so much. Narooj looks crestfallen at being tricked out of more by his own boast, but he can hardly argue. Shifting into a third form - this her natural dark-skinned redheaded face, though with her pregnancy hidden - Keris steps closer to him as the cargo hold’s doors are opened by her crew, the scent of brine and blood and flowers surrounding him. Her Amulet ripples and changes to light armour of living coral; bright-hued and studded with gems with Ascending Air at her hips.

“Gajui Narooj,” she murmurs. “I have great plans for the Southwest. For the Lintha, for the Hui Cha... perhaps even for An Teng. Imagine it - freed from the grasping hand of the Realm! They are weak in the wake of their vanished Empress; they withdraw their legions and turn on one another.”

Another step into his personal space. She’s shorter than him, but her sheer presence is a hammer to all the senses. “I have many followers, Gajui Narooj, and many allies. But many - so many - know me through false names or as lesser things. Terrestrial, mortal, mangrove goddess. There are precious few who know the truth of me - who I have allowed into my trust.”

A gentle hand with the strength of a tsunami behind it traces his jawline as she shifts back into her Lintha guise. “I will need the Lintha, Gajui Narooj. For many things - you are the fastest of my allies, and the strongest. Your ships are swift, your blades are keen. Can I count on you to come when I have need of you, and do what I ask?”

((Pres + Per))   
((Oh, Keris. God knows what kind of Difficulty modifier you’ve managed to stack on this roll from the whole show that led up to this. You’ve played off, like, _all_ his major Principles in this interaction, I think. Flaring her amulet for the Appearance boost.   
3+5+3 Exotic Beauty Style+3 stunt+4 Kimmy ExSux {beauty, demands payment, impossibly high standards}=14. 7+4=11 sux.))   
((The social equivalent of jumping out from surprise and beating him over the head with a killstick.))

His red eyes are actually watering. “Yes. Yes, I will,” he vows.

She pats his face fondly. “Good. Now, this,” she gestures at the fraction of the hoard that has been deemed ‘too much of a hassle to sell herself’, which is being raised onto the upper deck for transfer onto his ship. “This is for your fleet as a whole; to strengthen the Lintha. But I have a gift for you, Gajui Narooj, personally.”

She stands back, her hair sweeping round to cover the floor between them. When it retreats, her Cherub Shrine sits there. She pats it fondly. “A Cherub Shrine. I will let you take this, so that you may reply to me when I contact you - keep it safe, and use it only in Creation; never in shadowlands or even places sacred to the Great Mother. It is a simple wonder, and needs the essence of the natural world.”

“This... this is a treasure beyond worth,” he breathes. Keris scrutinises his reaction to make sure he understands her warnings. She does not want to have to repair the thing if it breaks again, though she’s at least halfway sure she’s capable of such a feat now. She can see greed in his eyes. He’s considering what other uses he can put it to, something like this. She considers telling him to keep it to himself, but... well, if he can use it to become more successful, not only does she get a better follower, but he also owes her more and will be reminded of her every time he uses it.

“It is,” she agrees. “So keep it safe, and use it wisely.” She smiles. “I expect great things of you, Lintha Gajui Narooj. Now come. Let us return to your ship and tell them to ready their holds.”

It takes many hours, but in the end the transfer is done. Narooj stands on the deck of his slim and overloaded ship.

“Good hunting, Gajui Narooj,” Keris says, as she steps back onto her own deck. “I will call on you when I have need.”

“Yes, my lady,” he says.

The Baisha sinks into the depths without a trace as she disappears within. Keris keeps up her composure until she makes it into her quarters, then collapses into the throne again and has a giggling fit. Her angyals laugh along with her, and Kemiraci produces a brush and begins to comb her hair as she lies sideways across her throne.

“Well then,” she says brightly, both to her audience within and without. “I think that went well. Rounen, write up two copies, would you? I think Sasi will rather enjoy that story.”

“Right you are, mum,” he says happily. “And it’s going to be an _even better_ story than anything _Elly_ has ever ever managed _ever_.”

“I’m sure,” she smiles. “Dulmea? What did you think?”

“He is a wild beast, a cut-throat who cannot be trusted,” Dulmea says calmly. “And to grant him the cherub-shrine was foolish.”

“I also didn’t like the bit where you gave things away,” Haneyl chimes in. “That was a bad bit!”

“Nuh uh! Shut up! We were showing off so he’d love us!” Rathan contradicts her. The sounds of a fight start immediately. Unfortunately for Rathan, they are within arms reach and Haneyl bites. So does Calesco, but at least Calesco only has human teeth - though she makes up for it in willingness to go for the groin and other dirty shots.

Keris waggles her hand, responding to Dulmea. “A beast, yes. Wild... not as much, now. I have him leashed, and he wouldn’t dare turn on me. At most, I need to worry about him doing something stupid to impress me. And he needs the Cherub Shrine to communicate - I can’t direct him or give him orders if he can’t report back.”

She sighs. “Though yes, I was less happy about the Shrine. The other stuff not so much - it would have been a pain to sell, and he’ll repay us for that in service, or I’ll know why. But I don’t really have any other way to make sure he’s doing what I want. If I find he’s been misusing it, I’ll take it back.” She purses her lips. “Maybe I should set a watchdog on him.”

“Maybe.” Dulmea doesn’t sound convinced, even as Rathan bursts into tears because Haneyl’s hair is biting him.

“And the other thing,” Keris says, raising her voice a little. “Is this. Rathan? You remember how I got Narooj’s Lintha to worship that _silly_ Ululaya before we went to Malfeas and I found out how stupid she was? Well, it occurs to me... they’re worshipping a Blood Red Moon. And they’re very silly and don’t know very much about the souls of Kimbery. Why, they might believe that... say... Her souls sometimes shift like the phases of the moon. And that while I was communing with them, the Red Moon took on a male aspect. And name.”

She continues quickly, before any more screaming starts. “And Haneyl? You know how I’ve planted lots of seeds in lots of different people? They stop people attacking me, but they don’t do what the Shashalme’s do, and make them want to help me and do things for me. So we’re going to see if we can work out how to make them do that, so that he has another leash on him and is all devoted to my needs. That way giving him things is outfitting _my_ servant with the best stuff, so he can serve me better.”

The fight dies down. “Well,” Rathan says slowly. “It would be proper for _me_ to be followed, not that _stupid_ mean moon who’s the worst moon ever. But,” he snivels, “how can I do anything when Haneyl is bullying me and biting me for no reason at all?”

((7 successes there for his Beauty-over-Truth alike))

Whatever positive things Haneyl was about to say is interrupted by many screams from many throats, and all of them shouting things like “Liar” and “You started it!” and “You’re cheating” and things of that ilk.

Keris chuckles mirthlessly. “Nice try,” she says. “Alright, both of you to your homes. _Now_. You get your presents when you’re done fighting, and not before.”

There is a great chord - the sound of Dulmea forcefully resolving things. Haneyl and Rathan are no longer there. “Oh dear,” Dulmea says. “The two of them are getting agitated. And Echo has wandered off looking for ‘funner’ things to do, and Calesco is sulking in her cave because you’re allying yourself with the Lintha and she hates their eunuch slaves.”

((Calesco noticed because both the swamp and the moon went into temper tantrums at the same time.))

“I’m damn well going to do something about _that_ ,” Keris growls. “Maybe once I work this thing out with Haneyl I can make him... hmm. It’s two issues, really. But I don’t like either of them, so they’ll both have to go.” She sighs. “Perhaps I should just... outright steal them. The whole fleet. If I use the Silent Wind I can make them forget they ever belonged to the Lintha, and start ripping out their horrible beliefs.

“I’d normally hesitate to go that far, but... well, normally they’d be coming from something less _screwed up_ than Lintha culture.” She wrinkles her nose. “Which I need to learn more about. New and old. Some more praying to the Great Mother, maybe - I can re-cast them as the Lintha of old; the noble ones.”

((... amusingly, I think all her souls would be in favour of that.))

“People speak of a noble past when everyone has forgotten all the blood, death and murder,” Calesco says glumly, seemingly from right behind Keris’ ear. It’s coming from a different place in Keris’ head, somehow.

“... fair point,” she admits. “But since I’d be the one teaching them, I’d be able to give them the, you know. Actually noble bits. Make something good out of them - protecting their lessers instead of abusing them.” She sighs, leaning her head back to accept an apple slice from Teveya. “We’ll see.”

“Yes,” Calesco says. “We will.”


	6. Chapter 6

The sun is setting on Saata as Keris returns, the blood-red light streaming over the island and the raised much larger bulk of Shuu Mua behind it. The evening chorus of birdsong echoes out from the jungle, audible even over the evening chorus of Saata. She sighs as she cuts through the harbour. It’s hotter than ever, even beneath the waves. The end of the year is drawing in - and the Althing is drawing closer. She’ll need to do something big before she goes, or she’ll have nothing to boast about.

At least she’s no longer alone in the city. The Baisha is moored underwater at the reef outside the city until she decides whether to send it back to her new island or not, but Rounen and Cissidy have accompanied her into the city. The latter heads off to explore the mangrove swamps as the sziromkerub joins her in her rooms.

“Right. So. I need to set up this meeting for Jade Fox to win him over... and then also think of something big to do,” Keris muses. “Big and flashy and trade-ruining. Something really, really impressive.” She purses her lips. “Sasi said there was a settlement north of An Teng, didn’t she? A small one; mostly a garrison full of Realm soldiers.”

Rounen is sitting on her small cramped bed, swinging his legs. Keris really appreciates his presence. He smells lovely, which is much better than its normal smell of... well, Saata and its inadequate sanitation. “Really big fires are gorgeous,” he says dreamily. “And really interesting. And scary too, but that’s because the princess is so incredible and pretty it’s like a curse to be around her when she gets upset.” He perks up. “Oh! Are you talking about war? Like what happens when the princess and the moon go to war?”

She nods. “Yes. I need something that I can boast about. But that means a target, and... aha!” Sorting through her maps, she holds one up triumphantly as her hair coils and winds around itself. “Yes, here it is. The An Zhal satrapy. Sasi mentioned it just before... well, just before that whole mess with Buk Moi. Knew it was ‘An’ something. Let me see... I think she said the Merchant Navy runs it? It definitely has a Legion garrison, but... hah, yes.”

She taps the paper and shifts it so that Rounen can see. He’s looking very interested in the maps. They aren’t writing, but they’re still fascinating to him. “If it’s a port of call for the merchant navy, that means ships will dock there,” Keris says. “Good. I can track them from there. And down _here_...” She runs her finger south down the coast and taps the area in the south of An Teng. “There’s a silver town somewhere around there that House Ledaal owns. I know about _that_ from my silversmithing apprenticeship.”

Keris grins, cracking her knuckles. “A big attack on one of them should get me some credit at the Althing. If I can devastate the town, that’ll cripple Ledaal interests in the region... hmm. I wonder if I can cause a flash flood or something? It’d mean another long trip... or I could send Kuha to scout the river on anyaglo-back. See if there are any dams there.”

She winds a thoughtful finger around her hair. “Well, first things first. You wait here while I sneak into the forge and see what my Gale has managed to turn out. Can’t have two of me running around.”

Rounen nods along. “Why not?” he asks reasonably. “Your mama does it.”

“I’m pretending to be a Dragonblood, sweetheart,” Keris reminds him. “They can’t do that sort of thing; it’s a gift of the Silent Wind. Here. You look over the map and see if there are any big lakes upriver from this area, okay? I’ll be right back.”

It’s not hard to slip out and navigate the streets unnoticed, and fairly easy to slip into the forge her Gale has commandeered. Keris isn’t sure she even notices herself as she ghosts up and touches a finger to the back of her neck as she’s checking that a casting plate is level.

... no, she didn’t, she remembers a moment later. My, that was a surprise. The rush of memory wells back in. Keris thinks this is the longest she’s ever been apart from a part of her - it’s certainly the most divergent set of experiences.

... she wasn’t very exciting. She’s spent most of the time at the forge. Graceful Shark came around and the Keris babbled at her about silversmithing until she went away. She... is hungry, because she’s been forgetting to eat and has been mostly eating street food. Keris’ gut twinges for a moment, but... actually, that pan-fried seaweed was pretty good. Honestly, she _really_ needs to find a way to get her Gales working. Another thing for the To Do list. It’s getting increasingly long.

Sighing, Keris looks over what she got done in the forge with the more critical eye of an Exalt. Well, it’s not bad, she thinks. Okay, by mortal standards it’s excellent work - she has a dozen polished silver mirrors a little under a metre across. They’re not _flawed_ \- they’re smooth and properly flat, without any irregularities. They just lack the touch of genius or the living essence of a true Artifact. Still, they’re a starting point she can use to produce something better. Nodding in satisfaction, Keris stacks them carefully out of the way and tidies up after herself, then returns to her rooms to think.

Keris goes out later to grab herself some Saatan street food - which much to her glee, is almost Nexan in the way that a) it comes from lots and lots of different places and b) tastes just like home from the way it’s clearly made with whatever the cook had to hand - and while she eats in her room, she hears the smug humming of a Haneyl who’s just bursting to brag about something she’s done.

“Haneyl?” she asks, sharing a skewer of dog meat with Rounen and putting her plans on a scouting route for Kuha on hold. “Something you want to tell me?”

“Me? Why would I have something to tell you?” Haneyl says smugly. “I mean, it’s not like I’m the _best_ and _cleverest_ and _smartest_.” She pauses. “I actually am,” she adds quickly, “no matter what Echo gestures. But look what I did in my special art room in my palace~.”

Quirking an eyebrow, Keris sinks into meditation and emerges next to her.

Or tries, at least. With a feeling uncannily like slipping on a wet floor, she sort of slides off to the side of her intended target and finds herself just outside Haneyl’s tree instead of within it. Rolling her eyes, she knocks politely, and the bark creaks open to admit her.

“So what do you have to show me?” she asks, strolling downstairs and admiring the po-loot that still adorns the walls. There are a few... inspecting them, Keris realises they’re chell, or were. The instruments that are part of their flesh have been replaced with leaves and bark and moss, or huge roots that emerge like extra limbs only to plunge back into them elsewhere, or other forms of plant life.

Whatever they are, they seem to be diligently polishing and tending to some of the pieces, and show no signs of even noticing Keris as she passes them. The path leads Keris down into the deeps, below the earth. It’s hot and damp down here - but it’s also brighter. Embers glow green in the walls, and there are so many burning torches that Keris has to tuck in her hair to avoid it being singed.

And then she emerges down at the bottom of the spiral. There’s a chamber down here, down among the roots of the princess’ tree - and she’s just at the top of it. Beneath her there’s a floor of fire that burns bright green and many, many gantries of grey wood suspended over the fire.

There’s also partially eaten... things lying around the place. And other demons who are seemingly fused with trees or have plants growing out of them. There’s music down here, in the deeps and Keris looks with wide eyes at the group of angyalkae who’ve been fused together, back to back, their hair reshaped into the canopy of a tree that bears silvery bell-fruit.

And in among the biological twisting and plants and flesh becoming wood, there’s countless other artistic attempts like paintings and half-composed music, thrown away or discarded - and often burned.

“Mama!” Haneyl says smugly. She looks up from the one of Keris’ Gales she’s got down here, tied up in branches on a tree trunk. Her teeth are sharp and too big for her mouth and her hands are too long, branching into a hundred fingered roots. “You’re very lucky. I don’t let _anyone_ else down into my special artist room! I made it after seeing how Lilunu had one so of _course_ I wanted one! And Ligier, too! He has lots!”

((... have you been waiting to spring this on me since I had Keris get all competitive-ambitious over Lilunu’s workshop?))   
((mebee))   
((yes))   
((eeeeeee eeeesssss))   
((Sometimes it helps to remember that Haneyl is greed and self-improvement. Compassion isn’t her thing.))

Keris opens and closes her mouth a few times, unsure of what to say. Her daughter has certainly done a fairly good job of imitating the feel of an Unquestionable’s workshop. It’s immature still, but given time to - hah - grow...

Beckoning Haneyl over to her, Keris closes her eyes for a moment and _listens_. Really listens. She can hear... she can hear a lot of living things down here. Not just the angyalkae; there are many minglings of flesh and flora in this room, and all of them are making subtle little sounds. Keris tries to read the general mood. Are they in pain? Do they like it here? Are they happy, or suffering? Are they aware, or have they been driven mad by... by what her daughter has been doing?

It’s a chilling thought to have. Keris is used to being worried about whether _Rathan_ is growing up to be a good person. But... in his city, the demons seemed happy. For all his vows of revenge and hatred, he’s content to let his subjects be as long as they’re a rapt audience.

She can’t see Rathan doing something like this.

The noises Keris hears are mixed. Some of them certainly don’t seem to mind it. The angyalkae, for example, seem to be perfectly content to sit and play as a hybrid-tree-being and their hair-fruit seems to be something they’re deliberately weaving into their music. Other creatures seem... dead, or... or not animals anymore, like the plants have eaten all their sense of self and now they’re just moving plant things, like the riders on Haneyl’s farisyya.

But there are some other ones, especially the ones who sound least infected by Haneyl’s plants, where Keris can hear fear in the noises they make. Under the noise of the flames, Keris can hear something crying.

Oh, and there’s quite a lot of burned bone down in the fire. Keris can hear it crackle. Haneyl may be throwing failed experiments into the fire - possibly in fits of frustration or rage, knowing her daughter.

The important thing to do here is to stay calm, she thinks. Haneyl never reacts well to being yelled at. And if she’s proud of this place, and showing Keris, it means she’ll be really, really hurt if Keris doesn’t seem to like it. Yes. She should... whatever else she does, she should stay calm.

((Rolling Compassion 4. 3 sux. WELP. This is going to go downhill and end in a tantrum. But ah, it is to roleplay. Here goes.))

Haneyl trots over and beams up at her with a little smile, and Keris’s entire body tenses as if for battle. Scooping her daughter up - not roughly, but certainly not in a congratulatory hug - she stalks over to the nearest source of tears, vibrating with tightly-wound anger, and plants Haneyl squarely in front of it. It’s one of Rathan’s horse-things; stripped of its armour and spread out across a table with wooden manacles holding it down. There’s a bush growing out of its chest, icy plums dangling from blue leaves, and it’s convulsing with quiet sobs.

“What about him?” she hisses. “It looks like you let _him_ down here. Is _he_ lucky? He’s _crying_ , Haneyl; what have you... did you even _ask_ if these people wanted to have this done to them? Did you even _care?_ ”

Haneyl squares her jaw. “Rathan takes _my_ things when he invades. So I take _his_ things when I beat him.” She gestures at Rathan’s creature, its monstrous water form trapped within her shell of plants. “And since it’s mine, I get to do with it what I want. Just like he takes _my people_ and does his glowing light thing to them and then they _betray_ me and work for him!”

She folds her arms, and glares at Keris. “Why are you being mad? I was going to show you something _super amazing_ I worked out I think I can do with you and now... now you’re being mean!”

Keris squeezes her eyes shut, which doesn’t help at all, and then plugs her ears and sits down, which does. Slightly. She takes a shaky breath, trying to force the tears not to come. The babies must be making her feel extra-emotional, because despite her best efforts, it’s only on the third attempt that she manages to speak.

“Haneyl,” she says. “You... you remember what I said about citizens? About how anything in my Domain that can think has some... some rights? You’re seeing _people_ as _things_. That’s not... that’s what...”

She breathes out. “Haneyl,” she whispers, her voice cracking. “I don’t want to be a person who does that. Killing people is one thing, but... at least they’re still _people_. Even when I had nothing else, I had that. The ones who didn’t even see me as a person... I preferred living on the streets to them.”

“But you don’t shout at Rathan for using his light to steal _my_ people and _make_ them love him,” Haneyl whines, tears welling up. “He steals _my things_ with his red moon stuff, so _I_ should get to take his things with _my plants_. Because it’s not _fair_ if I get shouted at for stealing his things but he doesn’t get shouted at for stealing my things!”

Keris shakes her head - not in reply, just at the impossibility of answering. She remembers crooning to her unborn children a few months ago after a different fight between her souls, admitting that she had no real idea what she was doing. How she’d hoped she’d be able to raise them right.

Hah.

She’d had no _fucking_ clue how little she knew.

Wordlessly, she gathers Haneyl up, ignoring her daughter’s struggling, and makes for the stairs, climbing blindly. She climbs until she’s far enough up that she can’t hear the sobbing through the crackle of the flames, and there she sits and holds Haneyl in her lap. There she swallows her voice so that she can _scream_ , silently and without making a sound, letting the rage and horror and disgust and shame blast out without touching anyone.

She’s _twenty_. She’s _twenty_ and she’s trying to raise four children with two more on the way and apparently she’s not doing nearly as well as she’d thought because one of them is _mutilating people_ into artpieces. Tying down sobbing demons whose only crime was _not following her_ and using them as plant beds while they... while...

She can feel tongues against her arms and cheeks as Haneyl squirms in her lap. She can probably taste Keris’s distress, she realises.

She breathes in. She breathes out. She lets her voice bubble up to fill her throat again.

“First of all,” she says softly into Haneyl’s hair. “First of all, Haneyl. I still love you. You’re still my little girl, and nothing will change that.” She swallows, though there’s no moisture in her mouth to sooth a dry and painful throat. “And some... some of the things down there were beautiful, sweetie. They really were. But some of them... some of them were wrong.”

She tries to find more words; words that will get her to _understand_ , to see _why_. Surely there has to be some... some clever eloquent Salina-like thing she can say to teach Haneyl something this basic.

“I... there are things I don’t like about what Rathan does, too,” she tries. “And... and Echo, and Calesco, and maybe even Dulmea. And maybe... maybe I did it wrong. Maybe I made a mistake in what I was... in how I was just trying to get you all to get along on the surface and stop you fighting.” There are tears trickling down her cheeks now, and Haneyl is sitting very still. Keris keeps talking to herself, feeling the tremor in her limbs.

“I didn’t want you to fight or hate each other or... or want each other _gone_ , but I didn’t want you upset either...” She huffs a faint laugh. “So I just tried to get you to stop hurting or arguing as soon as I could each time... but if that led to this, was I wrong? Should I have... should I have been teaching you more? What could I even teach you when I never... when I just worked things out and got soft on my own? A year ago... a year ago I wouldn’t have _cared_ so much... a year ago you weren’t even born yet.”

She sniffs. “Your birthday’s coming up,” she says. It’s not really relevant, but it’s something not related to what’s downstairs, and that makes it safer to think about. “Two... three weeks? Something like that.”

There’s a tremor in Haneyl’s voice as she says, “But... I don’t understand. You’re angry, b-b-but I was just... you like Lilunu a lot and she makes demons into art and you like Ligier a lot and he makes art from everything and the Shashalme infects everything and I w-w-worked out how we can m-make things we grow pl-plants in love us and want to do th-things for us. And... and... and I don’t _understand_.” She’s crying now. “What did I do _wrong?_ Why are you angry, mama? I just... I don’t _know_ what to do and now you’re angry and... and I showed Dulmea some of my art and she liked it and said they were pretty and it doesn’t make _sense!_ ”

Keris sighs. “I love you, sweetheart. I’m angry and upset, but I still love you.” She kisses Haneyl’s forehead. “And I... I don’t know. I don’t know the answer.” Haneyl makes a high-pitched wail of distress, and Keris squeezes her tight. “So... so we’ll work it out. You and me. We’ll work out what I’m feeling and why, and then make nice clear rules about it that everyone follows so this doesn’t happen again. Okay?”

“... ‘kay.” Haneyl’s voice is small and uncertain, and she twists to stare up at Keris tearfully. “I worked really _hard_ on my art place, mama. How was it bad? Why... was it because it w-wasn’t as g-good as Lilunu’s or... or Ligier’s?”

She’s not the confident, bossy little girl who’s usually flouncing around cooking and holding court and shouting at things in the world above. Here in the depths of her tree, Keris’s daughter is achingly, terribly vulnerable. Keris could shatter her here with a word.

She doesn’t.

“That wasn’t it,” she says softly. “I said... some of the things down there were beautiful, Haneyl. The harpist-tree; that was gorgeous.”

“Then _why?_ ”

Head bowed, still weak and trembly with Haneyl’s weight in her lap, Keris thinks. “What made me upset...” she says slowly, “... what made me upset was the sobbing. The ones who were crying and screaming and... and _suffering_.” Her head comes up as a piece of the puzzle slots into place. “The suffering. It reminded me... it reminded me of when I was a... a slave. When I was suffering like that.”

She strokes Haneyl’s hair gently. “Ligier’s workshops... and Lilunu’s... they didn’t have that. Not that I saw. The demons there were happy to be there - proud, even. They wanted to be there. Even in the Shashalme’s gardens... its servants adore it. They don’t cry and sob in the corners.”

“But that’s not _fair!_ ” Haneyl screams, heating up. A bestial reverb enters her voice. “That’s not _fair_ , Rathan is _good_ at making people love him, and I _work_ for things and make my court the _best_ and he just _steals_ them!” She’s sobbing again, furious and heartbroken and confused. “You love him more than me!”

Keris shakes her head again. A throbbing pain is starting to form between her temples. “Haneyl... I don’t, I promise I don’t, sweetie. I swear, I... here. Hey, come on, here.” She opens a set of fangs on her knee to bite deep into the knuckle of her pinkie finger, and brings it up to Haneyl’s hair. The silvery-grey locks latch on immediately, wrapping around the wound and suckling. “See? A little blood sacrifice for you. I’m not done thinking yet.”

Sniffing and whimpering, Haneyl settles. She seems to like the taste of Keris’s blood. Or possibly just of blood in general.

“You said you’d worked out a way to grow plants in things and make them love you? And want to do things for you?”

A tiny nod.

“Okay. Then... if you do that _first_ , Haneyl, and make sure they love you before they start... I think I’d be okay with that. And that means that Rathan has his light that makes people love him and you have your seeds that make people love you, so you’re equal.” She pauses. “I’d say Echo and Calesco were left out, but I don’t think Echo will care very much. And Calesco... I don’t think Calesco would want to do things like this in the first place.” She tickles under Haneyl’s chin. “She’s not really one for pretty things, is she?”

This earns her a watery giggle. “S-so...” Haneyl sniffs. “So I just need to... to make sure they love me before I start making art? Why does that _matter?_ They end up loving me in the end anyway!”

Keris’s mouth twists. “I think...” she starts, and stops to consider. “That’s a hard question, but I think... it’s because of the way they suffer otherwise. It’s... it’s not even all about _them_. It’s about you. And me. It’s about the difference between being someone who’ll do things to a person who’s crying and who doesn’t want to be there, and a person who’s as eager to make art as you are.”

She spreads her hands out, letting one rise up and the other fall down. “One of them is a good person to be who makes art that everyone can enjoy, and the other... the other isn’t. The other is like the old monsters of the Deliberative. I think a lot of the Unquestionable don’t care about that difference. And Dulmea grew up in Malfeas, so she... she doesn’t either, always. But I do. Does that make sense?”

Her daughter takes a deep breath. “I’m... I’m not sure,” the little girl says uncertainly. “I... I... “ She starts to chew on her hair. “I... it’s the _moment_ that matters. As long as they’re not hurting or sad, then things don’t matter.”

“... yes,” Keris says. “Yes, I think that’s it. You take care of your subjects, so you take care of your art as well.” She wrinkles her nose in thought. “There might be exceptions to that for really bad crimes, when it’s a punishment, but we can work those out later. For now, it’s the moment.” She kisses Haneyl on the top of her head. “I’m sorry I scared you. I know you didn’t mean to upset me. And I still love you, no matter what.”

Haneyl clings to her closely. “I... I love you, mama,” she says quietly. “But... you never told me and... and I just wanted to be like Lilunu. Or like you when you made pretty art from the owl-riders.”

“I know, I know.” Keris hugs her back. “That was my mistake. I hadn’t thought enough about it to work it out without your help.”

She shifts her hair to relieve some of the pressure on her scalp in the hopes of easing her headache. “Shall we go back down? I can put the ones who are suffering into a deep sleep with Dulmea’s sleepy-poisons, and you can show me how your love-seeds work, and then when they wake up they won’t be upset or sad.”

Haneyl shifts uncomfortably. “I... don’t have it working _yet_ ,” she says. “That’s why I found one of your not-real-yous to work on. Because I wanted to find a way to make them not-useless at the same time! To help you!”

“That _would_ be helpful,” Keris admits. “Wait, have you been feeling some of the stupid when I absorb them again? Urgh.” She shakes her head. “Okay. I’ll put the suffering ones to sleep, and then we can work this out together.”

She pauses. “And... you can also tell me how you got your hands on one of my Gales. Aren’t they all in the Spire? How did you carry her out? She’s bigger than you are!”

Haneyl pulls an impish - and decidedly Echoan - grin. “I climbed up the outside wall on a vine and then carried her down in my hair and then I put her on the back of a horsie - only I dressed her up in armour so everyone thought she was just a farisy-rider!” she says delightedly.

Keris shakes her head fondly. “Sneaky little thing,” she compliments. “Poor Dulmea just can’t keep up. Come on. I’ll carry you.”

The art-chamber is a lot more tolerable with the sound of sobbing replaced by slow, steady breathing. Keris sits herself down to inspect the Gale as Haneyl plunges her hands in. There’s already a seed next to its heart, a probing hair tendril tells her. It’s just a matter of getting it to do what they want it to.

“See, what I thought,” Haneyl explains, gesturing with root-like fingers, “is that... well, have you played with a brain? It’s all grey and pretty! So then I thought that if the seed could grow roots into there, very fine roots, even finer than a hair, then the bit that does the thinking would be part of the bit which is me and then they’d think so they’d help me! And if we did the same to your useless fake-yous, they’d be thinking so much about you and how to help you that they wouldn’t have any time to worry.” She pauses. “Oh! And also, maybe the feeling of having me in their heads would make them happier. Being... uh, them being happy is good, right?”

“It is, yes,” Keris agrees. “And I know I’m happier with you in my head.” Haneyl beams. “So let’s try this. I think... hmm. I think the best way would be to just have them go back to the spine and then up, don’t you?”

“Well, I was thinking of...” Haneyl frowns. “More like pollen in the blood.”

“Huh.” Keris considers this. “Interesting... okay, your way first. I think I can wake her up to test it. And make her less stupid.”

There’s no success in this evening’s experiment, but Keris gets the feeling that they’re heading the right way.

She’s still worried about Haneyl. Of course she is. Haneyl is the most erratic of her children. Echo might be unpredictable, but she’s predictably so. And Haneyl cares a lot about what other people think - and watches other people and copies them. Though there’s the same worry for all her children. They’re learning things that she never... she never thought they would. And she doesn’t have enough time for all of them - and will have even less when she has little helpless real babies who depend on her for everything.

It only makes it more urgent that she figure out her Gales. She needs to be in too many places, and be doing too many things.

Maybe she’ll talk to Lilunu again at Calibration. She might have some ideas.

That night, Keris takes a quick swim out to the Baisha with a mission for Kuha. She gives her owlrider maps and a week’s supply of food, and summons her an anyaglo for the journey. If there are any dams or lakes upstream of the Ledaal company town, Kuha will find them. It’ll only take her about a day to get to An Teng on anyaglo-back, and she’s been yearning to fly. If she does well with this, Keris thinks, she might send her out to look for any other uninhabited islands between Saata and the Isle of Gulls.

“Where should I come back to, Kerishyra?” Kuha asks, delicately grooming her steed’s mane-ribbons with her fingers. “For landing, I mean? Your floating island hides under the big lake most of the time.”

“The reef we’re moored by - do you think you can find it from the air?” Keris asks. Kuha frowns and shakes her head. “Right. One of the statues outside Saata is pointed this way. Fly until you can see them, then follow the way the one with the scar across its chest is facing. If you stay high and huddle up in your cloak, anyone who sees you from below will probably just think your anyaglo is an air elemental. Then you should be able to spot the reef and come down to land. Neride, have one of the swimmers hang around the reef unseen to bring the ship up when she arrives.”

“I understand,” the little owlrider says, and then she’s off.

Keris is off too, back to Saata. Where she needs to consider her approach for Jade Fox. Pale Branch she met in secret, and Lucky Wolf she’s planning on meeting under a fake identity, so it shouldn’t raise too high an eyebrow if she meets with Jade Fox ‘properly’. To that end, she makes a few quiet inquiries about talking to his family, as Hui Cha who are interested in An Teng and might still practice some of the traditional crafts.

If she can actually _find_ a master of Tengese embroidery to learn from, all the better. Keris hasn’t forgotten her promise to Lilunu.

Discreet inquiries, in the Hui Cha, means tea with friends. Quite a lot of tea, and the kind of polite small talk and chatter - much of it about her developing baby and a variety of foods, talismans, prayers and lucky charms that are supposed to be good for it - that Keris has thankfully got the hang of during her time staying with Sasi.

After the first few conversations that she gently leads into the vicinity of what she wants, she starts inviting her friends back for tea in her rooms, which at least lets her break the monotony by introducing Dulmean and Haneylian teas of different flavours. And makes people warm up to her even more, because her souls make very, very good tea.

It’s fortunate for Keris that she took that line of approach. It seems to have made a good impression - and the fact she spent several weeks buttering up the Hui Cha, making offers of silverwear and lucky charms might pay off later even if she got the feeling that she was being slowed down and fobbed off a little.

However, eventually she gets an invite from Jade Fox, who - according to the invite - wants to discuss the matter of a design for a birthday gift for his second eldest daughter. She is invited to his mansion - and the messenger quite notably hints that she should dress nicely and traditionally.

Despite how depressingly boring it is, Keris wraps herself up conservatively in loose trousers, a robe and a pale jacket with just a touch of tasteful decoration. Wave patterns, to remind him that she’s a Dragonblooded, since that should be enough to cancel out the shame of being a single mother. She brings along an assortment of her silverwork, wearing a number of hairpieces and her Kasseni-bracelet of silver, lead and pearl.

Jade Fox’s estate is made of the classical white stone of the Shogunate, but Keris can see that there’s a Tengese pagoda built on top of a low stone building. Vines and flowers wrap around the low structures and there’s a wall made of rubble around it.

Little River is let in through the entrance gate, and formally bows to them like a good Tengese girl would. She is, of course, greeted by the women of the house as is proper, who look just like what Keris has seen in An Teng. She smiles and greets them politely in turn, and waits to be shown in to meet Jade Fox. They usher her into the greeting room. It’s cool in here - they even have a stream running through here to help with the heat.

She kneels on the floor as a good Tengese woman would, escorted - for chaperonage - by Jade Fox’s wife. Jade Fox enters. He’s in his fifties, and plump and balding. He wears the robes of a Tengese nobleman - but Keris can hear the tattoos underneath the robe and see the fact that he’s got three false fingers strapped to his right hand and cutlass scars on his face.

Little River waits for him to greet her, and returns his greeting in kind. She makes simple smalltalk as he brings the conversation around to what he wants for his daughter, and considers her approach in segueing into her offer.

“And so I find I want my beloved little girl to have...” he snaps his fingers, “a proper marker that befits her noble status. Something made in the image of the Yellow Snake family’s crest. We are the true heirs to those _usurpers_ , and some day we will reclaim the land they stole from us... and in the meantime, it befits her to wear the things she should.”

“Of course,” Little River says agreeably. “I think I can come up with something perfect for her.” She pauses, prompting Rathan to cover her in a cloak of innocence. “I have to say, I’m sympathetic. Have you any friends in An Teng to help you take back your nobility?”

“They call us _pirates_. Outcastes. Misbegotten,” he says, voice tragic. “But we are the ones with honour. We will repay their betrayal with bloodshed,” he says, resting his hand on his sheathed sword. Keris hears the blade chime with jadesteel.

She tilts her head and smiles sweetly, veiling the glint of interest in his sword. “Unjust,” she agrees. “But perhaps I can help. I didn’t get out of An Teng alone, when I was cast out. And my... friends, I suppose; they were willing to help me, even after I was denounced. I might be able to introduce them to you - they have connections and influence in the Shore Lands.”

He sits back, arms resting on his thighs. “You would? he says, eyes fractionally wider.

She inclines her head. “I’d be happy to help you - if you helped me in turn.” Her pitch will have to be different here, she thinks. The radical proposal that Pale Branch bought won’t work. She’ll have to sell it as a more... traditional role.

“Are you looking for... solidity and a place where you can be safe in such a stressful time in your life?” he asks.

His wife leans over to Keris. “If you need a place to live, we can help,” she says. “There are proper women here.”

((Remind me, do they know she’s a DB? Or has that not reached all the blue sea masters yet?))   
((They know. They’re just tactfully raising the possibility of adoption.))

“Not quite,” Little River says, and double-checks that Rathan’s aura is up before leaning forward. “I think my skills can be put to better uses than just silversmithing - much as I love it, it’s far from my full potential. The Hui Cha have the blue sea masters, but you lead the fleets and ships. I don’t know that anyone thinks of the spiritual wellbeing of the clan as a whole - who takes the long view and looks to the future for what opportunities might come.”

She tilts her head and glances at the wall facing the city. “House Sinasana hold Saata in their grip because of their Terrestrials. Were I to sit with you and the other masters; a woman to tend to the land as you lead the fleets, we might be able to grow and prosper in the same way. Perhaps even take over the trade routes of the Three Flame Society, now that it’s been broken. Many will be scrambling to fill the gap they have left, and should we act soon and put my blessings behind our efforts, we could be the ones to do so.”

She ducks her head. “Of course, I wouldn’t dream of suggesting this without the approval of you and the other masters. What do you think?”

Steepling his fingers, Jade Fox looks over at her. “It would be something that would need to be considered carefully,” he says. “There is precedent and I worry that there are too many young men who are too angry and without respect for how things are meant to be. But to have one blessed by the Dragons with us would be an aid. I would need to think about this. But it is not something I reject out of hand.”

He is taking care with what he says. Keris thinks he doesn’t want it naturally, but he can see the advantages - even if he doesn’t like it.

“Of course,” she says smoothly. “While you consider, I’ll see if I can get a message to my friends in An Teng to help you. And work on your daughter’s gift, of course.”

“I am glad we understand each other,” he says, with a straight expression.

Little River is still smiling as she exits; already planning to come back later in the night and plant a seed to ensure he chooses correctly.

‘Well,’ she thinks as she calmly steps back into the sweltering heat of Saata. ‘Not as good as Pale Branch, but let’s call it a definite maybe.’

“Yes, child,” Dulmea says. “Useful.”

‘One and a half down, then.’ Keris lets herself back into her rooms and lies down on her side, nursing backache, footache and headache all at once. “Well, I’m too sore and tired to put on a show for Lucky Wolf today. He can wait. For now... Haneyl? Let’s see if we can’t finish our work on those seeds, shall we?”

“We should go out into the jungle,” Haneyl insist. “In case other-you start screaming again. And then we’ll make a proper one.”

“... good plan.”

It’s nearly a new moon overhead as Keris squats on a remote hillside - which on Saata means ‘she can’t actually see the lights, but she can still hear the city’.

“Go on, mama,” Haneyl insists. “We can do it! I’m sure of it! Make a you and then you can make her feel better!”

She breathes out, and is already moving before the Gale is done coalescing. This one is smart - smart enough, in fact, that she knows what Keris knows and is thus ducking as soon as she finishes forming.

She doesn’t duck _fast_ enough, but she still tries. As it turns out, it is difficult to fall into existential despair when you’re lying flat on your back watching the stars pinwheel around you in vaguely blurry lines. Keris exploits her dazed and slightly concussed period to get a seed into her, and then helps her upright.

“I know things seem wrong,” she says. “But I need you not to think about how, and to focus on me instead. I need your help, okay? I need to see if you can stand in for me.”

The other-Keris whines, pawing at her head. “This was a bad idea, a really bad idea, I can’t... I can’t... it...” She whines again, coughing. “I know there’s a bit of Haneyl in me and it’s in my head and it’s stopping me thinking about... about... about... I need to help you.”

“Hang on, hang on...” Keris grabs and reabsorbs her - which upon retrospect is not the best idea. She whimpers herself and falls over sideways, clutching at _her_ head. “Gahhh.”

“How does it feel?” Haneyl asks curiously. “Did it work?”

Keris sits up and shakes her head free of leaves, shuddering. “... sort of,” she decides, sorting through the memories. “But... ugh, that was weird. Really, really weird. The knowing what... I need to leave that bit of memory out if I make more. But as an emergency thing...”

She chews a hair tendril. “... yeah. Yeah, this could work.”

Haneyl swallows. “So... so you’re not mad?” she asks in a tiny voice.

“Not at all, sweetie,” Keris soothes. “It wasn’t... painful. Just... _strange_. But it was a very clever idea of yours, and I think it’ll let me get more use out of them. Well done!”

“Thank you, mama,” Haneyl says. She pauses. “Uh... mama? One teeny, tiny thing that might have maybe happened?”

“... yeeeessss?” Keris says warily, drawing out the word.

“Well... uh, I think the seeds have all learned from what we did,” she says innocently. “I had no idea that was going to happen! But... well, I think all the other seeds are digging in so they’ll want to help us too! That’s what it’s here for!”

Keris blinks, then looks alarmed and runs a quick mental tally of who, exactly, she has seeded. Let’s see... there are a bunch of people in the Middle Lands around the Catalyst. Probably won’t do much to them; she’s nowhere near them. There’s... Gajui Narooj. Pale Branch and a few others connected to Strong Ox. A number of demons. Hmm. Who else...

“... that’s fine, sweetheart,” she decides. “It shouldn’t be a problem, and I can always remove them from one person if it starts to cause one. And it means we have a leash on Gajui Narooj now! Your seeds are just as clever and helpful as you are!”

“Well, that’s fine, then.” Haneyl pauses. “Though, uh, mama, I am going to try more things with them. And tell you if I find anything new. I... I’ve been thinking and I don’t know a lot of things because... because I’m not even one. So that means it’s _your_ job to learn as much as possible and tell me _everything_ and get me lots and lots and lots of books so I can learn even more and not make any mistakes ever again.”

“That sounds like a good plan,” Keris says softly. “And you’re doing so well already, sweetheart. I’m proud of you, you know that? You’re growing up so fast, and you’re so _smart_ and _clever_. Sasi would be just as proud of you too. You’re... you’re amazing. And I love you, and I’m so, so lucky to have you, even if sometimes we mess up or fight. I wouldn’t give you up for all the world.”

“Mmm.” Haneyl takes a breath. “Well, you’re not allowed to let me down, you got it! You’re _my_ Mama. And if I can’t make mistakes anymore, that means you... you can only make less than a twentieth of the ones I make, because... because I’m so much younger!”

It’s clearly just one of her acts, trying to re-establish that she isn’t feeling vulnerable anymore. Haneyl is quite predictable. But Keris is just happy enough with her recent success - and she doesn’t want to make her daughter upset when she really is trying.

“That’s fair,” she agrees. “I’ll be better from now on. I promise.”

“You better.”


	7. Chapter 7

It is mid-way through Falling Wood, and Keris is back in Saata. Her cramped little room she rents in a boarding house for single women is sweltering. At the moment, she’s having breakfast, brought from the street - although about half of it is being tossed back through to Haneyl, who’s insisting in trying out the Wailing Fens cuisine that Keris gave a try of.

It’s heavily based around samphire and rice, mixed in with lime and coconut juice into a soup-thing. It’s strange, even to her Nexan tastebuds.

“So,” Hanyel says. “Mother. My birthday is soon. Of course you remember that.”

Keris does remember that, because Haneyl has been making sure to remind her of it for about a month. “I do,” she agrees. “Which is why I’m going to be taking a little manse-hunting trip so we can celebrate it away from Saata. I can pretend it’s for the good of my pregnancy - you know, fresh sea air, water without any bodies floating in it, sunning myself on an island; that sort of thing.” She smiles indulgently. “And when your birthday comes around, we can spend the whole day doing whatever you want. You get to be in charge.”

Haneyl emits a gleeful squeal. “Thankyou thankyou thankyou!”

Keris grins, and spends the next few days excitedly telling a few of her Hui Cha friends - in extensive detail that goes completely over their heads - about the advice she’s found on ensuring a healthy pregnancy and attracting the blessings of the Dragons to a growing child. Staying cooped up in the forge all day isn’t very good for her as a Water Aspect, she quotes earnestly, so she needs to realign herself with her element so that her body is in harmony with her essence.

There’s just a _few_ things they need her to get done, they tell her, like amulets for a new vessel that’s launching soon. You know, thirty or so.

This does not result in an especially pleased Dragonblood. But after an irritated lecture about _scheduling large jobs_ and _preparation time_ and _the baby’s health being important_ , Little River shuts herself in the forge for several days. This time, she doesn’t let _anyone_ in - the only person to dare knocking on the second day is met with bellowed cursing and the sound of a hammer hitting the inside of the door at speed.

But the worried voices among the triads are silenced when - admittedly in something of a foul temper, and apparently nursing a headache - Little River throws open the workshop doors less than a week later and announces the job finished. She follows the box of amulets up with a glower and a declaration that she’ll be adding another week onto her trip to even out the imbalance in her essence that such extensive effort requires of her.

The medallions are taken with obvious humility and... well, honestly, wariness of a scary dragonblood. They of course give her ten-thousand thanks for this and vow that this will not be done again, but it’s just that with her here now it’s a wonderful way for them to safeguard them against the vengeance of the water-spirits for launching a new vessel.

And then Keris is free to go - with the knowledge that she’s got a bit of credit to burn with the extra work she put in. She’s in a somewhat better mood as she swims out, curling up on the Baisha and ordering a course set back towards the Isle of Gulls. She may as well check how progress there is going before she sets out.

While her beautiful ship heads back to her secret harbour, she consults her maps. Here, the real beauty of the Shashalme’s gift shines through - dragon lines and demesne markings. Even manses. Many will have shifted over the years, but there are still a great many places for Keris to investigate. She brings her officers in on the planning - Neride for tactical positioning, the Helmsman for an insight into travel to and from some of the more likely locations, and the Priest in the interests of letting it know she’s working on finding a steady fuel supply for the Baisha.

((... ha ha ha, crap, I’d forgotten you had those maps. Hah. That’ll make... well, uh, everything far easier))   
(( : 3 ))   
((Keris: “And _this_ one is mine, and _this_ one is mine, and this one is _also_ mine...”))

The problem with geomantic maps that are so old is that they’re horribly out of date. Just from what she knows of the area around An Teng, she knows they’re mostly inaccurate. For one, the entire coastline of An Teng is shaped differently and there’s an island cluster in the bay which... uh, no longer exists. Not even as a sunken island, where Keris has swum under.

In fact, she finds an interesting lead on one of the less detailed military maps. It’s an oceanic map, showing a list of refuelling facilities and vessel maintenance shipyards. Most of these are on the coastline, but there’s an interesting collection of symbols around 400 miles west of Shuu Mua. In fact, if she reads the lines correctly, there’s some kind of manse network there. She doesn’t know exactly what they’re there for - the markers indicate that they’re classified beyond the map’s grade - but if she reads between the lines, she thinks at least some of these manses are specifically made to make fuel. There’s references to “Sister”-class manses and a “classified Mother-class”.

Those, she decides, sound interesting. She marks them down as high priority on her list of places to investigate, and resolves to set out as soon as she’s looked over the progress her hopping puppeteers have made.

Her marottes are hopping away, as they do. They’ve excavated a good section of the bay, dumping the spoil where she ordered them to build up a harbour wall. Keris silently thanks Sasi for those books on Realm military facilities she got her as a present. She’d thought they’d be useful for breaking into those standardised designs, but they’re also useful now she’s building these things herself!

She nods over their progress, makes a few changes here and there to the plans and congratulates them on their work. The next morning; she, Rounen and Cissidy head out close to the water to take a look at the manse network. It’s a shorter trip than Saata to An Teng, even with Keris deciding to loop around the northern coast of Shuu Mua, and she elects to spend most of it in the water while Rounen chats to Cissidy about poetry.

Unfortunately, it’s at this point that Keris realises some of the enormity of the task ahead of her. None of the cities on the Shogunate maps of Shuu Mua’s coastline exist anymore. From the air, she can occasionally see shapes that might have been a city long ago, but from the water she’s utterly blind. And the entire coastline has rearranged itself.

The sea, though. The sea remembers. The dragon lines that flow through the water are like currents to those who can hear them. And Keris _can_ ; the rushing song of flowing essence is something she lives with every day. Manses are built where dragon lines pool, and a manse network as important as the one on the maps should be noticeable from hundreds of miles away. Closing her eyes and letting her ears guide her; Keris follows the sounds and currents of the ocean.

((4+0+2 stunt+5 MSM autosux+5 MBD autosux=6. 11 sux. Man, Kimmy navigation is _powerful_ in the water. Hmm. I guess that’s part of the theme - it encourages you to navigate everywhere by sea and have lots of Beloved characters.))

The world has changed. What was once solid and inconstant is no more. In the case of the small tourist resort of Mussa off the coast of Shuu Mua, volcanos have come back to life when the Shogunate map marks them as extinct. This island chain can just about see Shuu Mua on the horizon, but there are no more tourists here - not even Dynastic ones. No, Keris surfaces beside one of the islands - the largest one, a smoking conical volcano - to find a few small settlements of fishers.

One of the manses is meant to be somewhere around here.

((... amusingly, I’ve forgotten the details of the Sister writeups.))

“Firisutu?” she asks, coming up onto the beach and beckoning her familiar out. The little mavaroska glares at Rounen, who glares right back. Keris clears her throat to interrupt their chittering.

“If you two are quite finished,” she says, a trace of annoyance in her voice, “Firisutu, I’m looking for a manse around here. Can you try making a nest to give me an idea of where to start looking? Try and stretch it as wide and as big as you can - I’ll help, if you tell me how.”

The collection of ape-like junk salutes - well, sort of - and deliberately rushes off to look for things.

“You know, mum,” Rounen says smugly, “It’d probably be better to look from on Cissidy than ask _that_ thing. I bet I could find it way way way faster than he could.”

... that sounds like a Haneylian thing to say.

“Well then, why don’t the two of you have a race?” Keris says, ruffling his... well, not ruffling his hair, but stroking his head-petals. “You and Cissidy can see if you can spot it from the air, and Firisutu can try and map the area.” She winks. “Better get going if you want to win.”

Rounen grins, his smile revealing more of the flame inside his head. “So I’m looking for a big building that’s probably way fancier than these wooden houses?” he confirms. “What do I get if me and Cissidy win?”

“Hmm.” Keris winds a finger around her hair. “I’ll see if I can help you work out how to get in and out of the Domain without my help, like Firisutu can. Then you can go to and fro, and share your stories with the other sziromkeruby. Sound good?”

YES, Cissidy’s ribbons say. She also seems to be smiling, insofar as a horse made of ribbons can smile. WE FOUND IT. THERE IS A TALL POINTY BUILDING ON THE OTHER SIDE OF THE ISLAND. WE SAW IT WHEN FLYING IN.

“So do we win?” Rounen says happily.

Keris opens her mouth. Keris closes her mouth.

“... you two are sneaky brats, you know that?” she says, grudgingly. “Fine. Firi! We’ve got this one locked down; but we might still need your help with the others. Call it one out of five to these two at the moment.”

Firisutu throws down a stick sulkily and climbs back up onto her shoulder, his silver-wire tail coiling around her neck. She rolls her eyes.

“Right, let’s go. Rounen, take notes on the island and the manse - I’ll do some sketches before we leave for the others. Firi, I might need you to help explore; you’re the best at getting through little openings.”

As she comes around the island, Keris can see that it is, indeed, a tall pointy building. In fact, it looks like a lighthouse, built offshore on a small rise of rock. Around the lighthouse there are little shrines set up with brightly waving flags and scraps of cloth, and even from this distance Keris can hear people praying within the tower - all male. Squinting in the afternoon sun, she can even see a man sitting on the edge of the island the tower is built on, fishing. She takes a few moments to consider how to do this, and decides on simply walking up out of the waves in a coat of silver scales whose inside is glimmering cerulean. With one familiar on her shoulder and the other two trotting behind her, she strolls up to him.

“Ho,” she calls out in Firetongue as he notices her out of the corner of his eye and glances over. She hides a smile as his eyes bug out. “What is this place? Who are you?”

The man boggles. “Lady, who you are?” he asks. His Firetongue is strongly accented and barely understandable to Keris - it’s only because the words are so simple that she can understand it.

“I am Riyaah MuHiitiyah,” she tells him, keeping her words simple and narrowing her eyes. “And I asked first. What is this place? Who are you?”

“This, the place of gods of Musraha,” he says. “A priest am I.” He switches into Old Realm. “Do I address the spirit-ambassador of a court of equals to the lords of Musraha?” he asks, in strongly accented but much more comprehensible Old Realm. “If you would come to negotiate with my ladies and lords, the priests will attend to you while the divine ones gather to hear your plea in their court.”

Keris cocks her head, considering. So, there are gods here. Interesting. She could probably negotiate with them in the guise of another deity without too much trouble, and it’s not like the other manses are going anywhere. After a moment’s thought, she nods. She can use the first opportunity she gets to disguise the flavour of her essence, and this is as good a place to start as any.

((Cog + Politics to see how much Keris knows about the etiquette of spirit courts.))

As he leads her up into the lighthouse, Keris considers what she knows about spirits. That, uh, aren’t demons. There’s not much she’s learned formally, to be honest - most of it is from learning how to suck up to them in her old life, with a few bits and pieces more from Sasi and her Reclamation tutoring. Still, she thinks she has it down fairly well, even if it’s not really scholarly knowledge.

((Hmm. Heh. She has a dot of Spirit-Charming Supplicant, so she at least knows a little about dealing with spirits from the perspective of an infrequent worshipper.   
4+1+2 stunt=7. 5 sux. Apparently her grab-bag of practical knowledge is fairly good on this score.))

((So what’s she activating before doing this?))   
((LSD and ESM to look like... hmm. Let’s say... an E5 spirit; pretty powerful for a Terrestrial. Slapping on MOE and BOT for good measure.))

Keris can feel - and hear - the power in the air around her as she heads into the manse. The description of it as a lighthouse is... not entirely inappropriate - it’s basically some temple rooms at the bottom where the priests live, and then the sacred rooms at the top where the gods themselves dwell. The priests are not allowed up to the sacred places save for special events - fortunately, they seem to accept that she’s the ambassador of a spirit court.

She also notes that all the priests here are male, and not unhandsome in the local way. She can guess that the leader of the local spirit court has... mmm, certain tastes.

“Your name, ambassador, and your court’s token. I will carry this to the divine ones, while we attend to your desires,” the seemingly most important (though not the eldest, strangely) priest says.

“My name is Riyaah MuHiitiyah,” Keris says, and rapidly considers what to use as a token. What even is a token? Are tokens special somehow? Would a god be able to tell if something wasn’t a real spirit-token?

“Mama! Mama mama mama!”

Oh, right. With a twirl of her fingers, Keris produces... it’s a seven-petalled flower, unsurprisingly, and at a guess she’d say it’s from one of the periods when Haneyl and Rathan were at peace. The petals are blue-white, and their curl and shape makes them look a little like cresting waves, with the grey stamen forming tiny trees at their centre.

“I will present this to the divine ones,” the high priest says, bowing to her.

He is gone perhaps a quarter of an hour, before he returns. “Ambassador,” he says respectfully, “the divine ones do not know your court. They have no treaty with you, they say, and bid that you depart their lands - and that you and your fellow gods should approach them elsewhen, in stranger realms - unless you come bearing urgent news with a gift to show the gravity of such a breach of protocol in your method of approach.”

((Oh dear. I think this is about the point where the situation turns into a horror movie for the gods who’ve just let her into their tower.))   
((Yeah, they’re looking for a bribe, probably on the grounds that any unrecognised court that’s trying to get in with them are probably some new group trying to usurp another one so should know to be free with the bribes if they’re serious about trying to usurp the other court))

Keris considers his words for a moment, and then smiles. Widely. With teeth. He flinches back slightly, but relaxes when she does little more than draw out a pair of beautifully crafted silver bracelets. “Of course,” she says. “I do, as it happens, have news that cannot wait - and many jewels and silver treasures.”

The priest nods. “Divine ambassador, your need must be urgent,” he says. “The divine ones relent to see you immediately.”

The staircase that leads up to the upper floor is worn marble and black jade. Blue, watery flames burn without torches on the walls, making the entire place feel like it’s underwater. The first room on the top floors is a shrine, but the high priest leads the divine ambassador through the altar room and up into a room where everything is overlaid in a thin veneer of black jade. The room reminds Keris of the crushing depths of the deep ocean.

A figure sits on one of the chairs in the room, stretched out on her dais. She’s dressed in diaphanous blue-green cloth, with blue-white hair which swirls like a wave. Keris can hear that she, too, is pregnant. Her motions are calm and flowing. Her eyes are bright silver, though, like moonlight.

Keris, of course, can see other things - like the spirit doorway which sits between three pieces of sea-worn copper which stand in the middle of the room.

“Ambassador, you are now in the presence of Muda Mena, the Lady of the Tides,” the priest announces. “My lady, the ambassador offered these gifts to show the severity of her concern.” He hands the bracelets to her, and then bows and exits.

The tide-goddess flaps one hand at Keris. “Oh my,” she says. “I’m so sorry about that. My darling boys get a little wearisome about keeping out what they consider to be people who show too little respect. But they’re so much fun to keep around. I thought I’d have a chance to have a little chat with you before you’re presented before the rest of the court.”

“Of course,” says Keris pleasantly, her eyes staying on Muda Mena while her ears canvas the area. She listens to the song of the spirit’s essence, judging her against Keris’s own strength - both real and falsely projected.

((Well, Keris already knows this is a 1 dot Water manse, and the spirit herself is an E4 goddess))

She’s a bit weaker than Keris’ illusionary self - though only slightly. Of course, compared to the real Keris, she’s small fry, barely stronger than most first circle demons. Moving closer, Keris sits down with a sigh, and motions vaguely at the goddess’s middle. “I see you’re carrying too,” she mentions casually. “Congratulations.”

“Oh, that?” The tide-goddess flushes slightly - which in her case involves her cheeks going slightly more sea-green. “Well, you know how it is.” She giggles. “It breaks my heart too much these days to watch them grow old, but I give them to their fathers. The humans make sure to treat my children well, and I make sure to keep an eye out for anyone who hurts them. You too, I notice. Congratulations as well.”

Keris dips her head regally. “Thank you. You have a lovely home, by the way.” She spreads her hands, looking up and around at the room - and drawing the goddess’s eyes. Even as she does, a hair tendril slips around; low down and out of sight, moving slowly enough towards Muda Mena’s ankles that it won’t catch the attention. Though Keris’s smile is placid as she talks and motions with her hands, she’s tense. She’d prefer not to have to fall back on Rathan’s light if she gets caught doing this.

((Attempting to stealthily Self-Seed her without her noticing, while she’s distracted. With BOT to fall back on if she does notice.))   
((Well, okay then, that’s Physique + Subterfuge - and remember SSI is Obvious, so if she notices at all she knows something magical is going on.))   
((Also, declare all Charms you’re using to enhance the roll, inc Excellencies.))   
((Do I at least get a 3-die stunt out of doing it so blatantly? : P))   
((No. : p))   
((*pouts*))

Keris can feel a frisson of energy running down from her shoulders to her fingertips, the way it always does when she’s presented with a real _challenge_. Of course, her definition of such has changed. ‘Challenge’ used to be cutting belt-purses off men with blades on their hips or bodyguards who’d break her ribs if they caught her at it. Now, it’s ensnaring the heart and mind of a goddess in broad daylight, right under her nose.

But what she’s doing still boils down to the old familiar principles of pickpocketing, and the new ones of assassination. Distraction, deflection and sleight-of-hand. Draw the eye to where you want it, keep it there while you make your move, and have a way to grab their attention rapidly if they start to notice - a scream, a crash, a flash of colour; something they can’t help but react to long enough for you to dance back and look innocent. Above all, stay calm and don’t look shifty.

It’s just as she passes Muda Mena another trinket - a pair of delicate filigree earrings - that she makes her move, brushing a hair-tendril against her leg just as she’s distracted by the glittering jewellery.

((Hmm. Drat. I think the only Charms I _can_ use are Excellencies. So I’ll just load it with as many ExSux as I can from Metagaos and trust BOT if it fails.   
5+5+3 Silver Willow+1 bonus+2 stunt+5 Metagaos ExSux=16. 11+5= _16_ sux, fuck hella yes.))   
((She got 8 successes on 7 dice, so, lol, even with the +2 external penalty and the flukishly good roll Keris manages it comfortably.))   
((Yessss~ And now I have a friend. : 3))

The tide-goddess doesn’t notice a thing, captivated as she is by the - if Keris says so herself - very pretty ear-rings.

Haneyl is humming happily to herself inside Keris’ head, in exactly the same way that Keris used to do when she was little and had just got away with a nice haul off a market stall. “I’ve never got to do this to a god before,” she says delightedly. “She’s all funny inside! Her silver eyes are super-important to her, mama! It’s how she sees the moon and knows how the waves should be! Oooh! Oooh! I can use some of these things when making new demons!”

‘I know you will,’ Keris thinks fondly. ‘She won’t be the last, either. Wanna see if we can get all of them? It’ll take a little while to sink in, but then we’ll have a nice court of friendly gods sitting on a manse for us. Maybe we can ask to stay here for the night and then slip around while they’re sleeping, hmm?’

“Can’t we sneak in?” Haneyl asks, clearly disappointed. “You mean they could find us?”

‘Well, obviously we’ll do that if they say no. But if they _let_ us stay here, it’s less work,’ Keris points out. ‘And it also means we can take our time more.’

“Well, I suppose,” Haneyl says, scuffing her feet.

Ignorant of the conversation in Keris’ head, the tide-goddess continues. “Now, what are you looking for, sweetie? You don’t mind me calling that? Since we’re not in the same court.”

Keris steps into her role, and Riyaah MuHiitiyah raises an eyebrow. She lets the affection go with a graceful tilt of her head. “To be honest,” she admits, seeing no real reason to lie, “it was your tower that drew me - I’d heard of manses in this area, and a place of power would help me with what I’m doing further east. But,” she shrugged, “I’m not fool enough to try and steal it from under a strong court. So an alliance, I suppose, is what I’m here for.”

“Hah! Yes, sweetie, we’ve had this place for hundreds of years. No one is taking it from us - and plenty have tried,” she says, her ‘sweetie’ seeming rather less gentle. “So, hmm, which court are you from? Or are you perhaps some upstart - so which court are you trying to overthrow?”

Riyaah tilts her head, smiling enigmatically. “Which do you think I am?” she asks, looking down at herself and turning a slow pivot. “Do I look like an upstart? Though my plans are a little bigger than just overthrowing another court, if you must know.”

“Oh?” she says idly.

Leaning forward, the mangrove goddess laces her fingers together. “You’ve heard that the Three Flame Society was destroyed? Something must fill the gap. A new trading power in the Southwest. Imagine the profits - imagine the _worship_ , for the patron-court of their successors.” She pauses. “And, of course, their allies.”

“Ah. I see,” she says. Riyaah suspects she does not see - and may be so provincial she doesn’t know what the Three Flame Society is, potentially. Though she does see the chance for profit, obviously.

((Heh. I suspected that might be it. : P))

“I mean to search for other manses, further to the west,” Riyaah says. “Perhaps I can find one that isn’t...” she smiles, “already occupied. But perhaps I could stay here for tonight, and speak with the rest of your court? We can discuss the details of an alliance.”

“That would be an interesting thing,” she says. The tide-goddess pauses. “You know,” she says, “If we were to be friends, I feel things could go well for both of us. Certainly, in your aims, I could be useful - certainly with that uppity volcano god and that crude fisher-god who would no doubt stand in your way without someone who might be willing to speak in their ears.”

((7 successes on her Per + Pres roll))

“Friends, then,” Riyaah MuHiitiyah says, and a song of triumph sounds in Keris’s heart - along with another in her head, where Haneyl cackles in glee.

“Excellent,” the tide-goddess says. “Now, sweetie, if you have any nice presents for me, I’ll go in and speak in a few ears so the little... irregularity of your court status goes away.”

Keris sighs inwardly, but coughs up several more silver delicacies and a little precious jade to smooth her way. She _really_ needs to work out a way to bind people to her by giving them things, she decides. It would make this sort of thing a lot easier.

The goddess disappears into the gateway, and soon enough emerges again. “Come on in,” she says smugly. “I think this should be easy enough.”

She walks through, and Keris follows too. On the other side of the spirit gate, Keris finds that she’s standing in... well, the spirit court is pretty pathetic compared to her own domain. It’s the size of a few large buildings, build around a central square. Half the buildings are made of black volcanic stone, while the other half is sedimentary sandstone. Water runs from the ceiling in endless waterfalls and pools on the sandstone side. There are a few gods lounging around on benches or in the central courtyard, while others are carrying around forms.

The tide goddess leads Keris to the largest building, and into an antechamber. “Just wait for a moment here, sweetie,” she says, “I just need to get in position myself. Don’t mention any arrangement, yes? Don’t want anyone to shut things down.”

Keris nods, and waits quietly, looking around with interest. She’s never been inside a sanctum before - well, technically her Domain is basically a sanctum, but arguably she’s never physically been inside that.

It sounds kind of weird, to be honest. She can hear the edge where the space just... stops. With nothing discernable beyond it. Echo indicates it’s very strange. How are they meant to have a border of the world without a mean snake to stop innocent little girls who just want to play with the winds?

Keris is let in. Muda Mena is on a high podium there, along with a dark basalt-skinned man with magma-cracks in his skin, and a woman who’s dressed like a peasant fisher with a broad-brimmed hat, chewing on a bit of dried fish.

“The court of the Rising Tower greets the ambassador of... an unknown court,” says the volcano god. “Where are you from?” His Old Realm is imperfect, and Keris can hear a notable Firetongue accent.

“A court to the East, beyond Shuu Mua,” she says smoothly. “From the Isle of Gulls.”

“Which court is that?” the fisherwoman god asks, chewing loudly on her fish.

Keris’s jaw tightens. Just a little. “The court of Sacred Harbour,” she improvises. “I am Riyaah MuHiitiyah.”

“Mmm. Never heard of it,” she says.

“This isn’t a very important meeting,” Muda Mena says. “We just need to be here for a quorate vote on whether to begin diplomatic associations with the Court of Sacred Harbour. Then we can get back to what we’re up to normally.” She pauses. “I think we should hear from our guest.”

Standing, Keris takes a quick moment to assess them, and then begins to speak. She flatters them, talking up their strength and the beauty of their manse-home, and then moves onto the Three Flame Society. She describes it in a little more detail than she had originally, and hooks them in with vivid descriptions of worship and wealth for its successor-organisation. Finally, she closes with how she means to move on soon to search for other manses further to the west, and appreciates them taking the time to consider her offer.

They nod. “Thank you very much,” says the tide goddess. “We will now discuss.”

Keris listens in to their discussion. While the volcano god is opposed, Muda Mena and the fisher goddess are in favour - and from the way the fisher-goddess clinks, she’s one of the people who benefitted from the bribes as well.

They come back to say that they have agreed to open up diplomatic relations. The volcano god is clearly not happy - and is even less so when Muda Mena invites Keris to have its hospitality. Riyaah MuHiitiyah is all smiles and gracious thanks, while inwardly Keris is dancing a quiet jig. She’d not sure quite to what extent gods sleep, but at the very least she can sequester herself in her quarters for some rest and relaxation and then sneak out and infect the rest of the gods here.

Within the divine sanctum, things are... strange. The sun and the moon follow no sensible hours, and sometimes they are gone and there are stars overhead. But all this light is strangely refracted, coming from the painted ceiling as if it was shining through thick layers of paper.

Keris, of course, has seen the green sun and watched her own red moon rise above the waters of her soul. Bluntly, her own soul-world is prettier - and this is nothing compared to Malfeas.

As a guest, she has a small yet fairly lavish room, at least by Creation’s standards. It’s clearly decorated with the riches and offerings of the local tribespeople, with additional divine craftwork - made in these people’s style.

Neither Haneyl nor Dulmea are very impressed and they are making catty comments in Keris’ head as the tide goddess shows her around with a clear expectation Keris will be impressed.

It’s a little hard to keep a straight face.

((Per + Politics))

With great difficulty, Keris schools her expression and... fails to look as awed as Muda Mena would probably like, but at least she doesn’t actually outright _laugh_ , so that’s something. She does comment now and again to show that she’s paying attention, and if those comments are a _little_ catty and perhaps suggest that she’s used to more lavish surroundings than the rest of the court of the Rising Tower can provide... well, they’re only implications.

((3+1+2 stunt+4 Kimmy ExD {poise, impossibly high standards, undercurrents of dissent}=10. Keris could probably apply Social Saboteur Style to this, but is choosing not to completely destabilise the tower and thus only gets 2 sux.))

She seems slightly put out, but Muda Mena seems to consider this a normal part of divine interactions. She does say a rather sharper farewell to Riyaah than she would have liked, though. Settling down in her rooms, Keris closes her eyes, opens her ears and _listens_. In this small sanctum, echoes are impossible to stop, and she can pick out the song of every spirit’s essence from the background hum.

There are so many gods. So, so many gods. But most of them are teeny and tiny and basically the divine equivalent of insect life - little gods popping in here to drop off reports filed by someone else, little gods who sound like they’re scrupping the floors with cricket legs, and so on.

Of the main divine presence here, there’s perhaps a hundred. A large cluster of them are in a scriptorium, working on paperwork, some more are playing what sounds like a ballgame with a chime-thing, and there are are a few who sound like they’re being quite self-indulgent in private.

Keris nods to herself. So. This place is like a... a gathering point for gods to work together. Probably from all over the region. That means that if she can infect the top gods, she won’t just be getting the manse - she’ll be getting a whole region under her sway.

Opening her eyes, she debates leaving a Gale... but its essence would give it away. She shakes her head and stills unnaturally, fading into the background, before very slowly starting to creep out of the room.

She won’t be able to get all of them. But she doesn’t need to. Just the leaders; and one of them she’s already snared.

... and she does owe Haneyl a birthday present, after all.

((So what am I rolling to identify the top gods and infect them ~stealthily~ under cover of HPC?))   
((Physique + Subterfuge - you’ll want to boost it. Keris can track them down pretty easily because lol Keris hearing and she knows what they sound like.))   
((Right then. Using Hidden Predator Camouflage as a stealth-sux doubler when actually infecting people, and keeping BOT up just in case.   
5+5+3 Silver Willow+1 bonus+2 stunt+2 Amulet+5 Metagaos ExSux {lurks in plain sight, cunning predation, insidious influence}=18. 7+5=12 sux.))   
((... well. I got 1 success on 12 dice.   
... looks like Keris does this pretty trivially))

She doesn’t, Keris gleefully realises, actually have to sneak the whole way around the sanctum. She can hear the tiniest reverberation of the servant-gods here, and it’s simplicity itself to make herself look like them down to the taste of her essence. Like that, she can walk around the place openly, only fading into the background in order to make her final approach and brush delicate hair tendrils over her targets while they’re distracted.

It’s tiring work. Surprisingly tiring, in fact, and she has to find isolated areas once or twice to let her caste mark burn, restoring her strength in heart-pounding moments as she listens for anything approaching her hiding spots. The effort is worth it for the reward, though.

And while it’s tiring, the actual process is... easy.

Pathetically easy, in fact.

Like, they’re no more perceptive than _mortals_. And Keris can evade mortal perception in her sleep. Has, in fact. It doesn’t even take her an hour to plant seeds of her flesh in the hearts of the volcano god and fisherwoman, and she celebrates her skill by infecting a fair chunk of the lesser gods in the tower on a scenic route back to her rooms.

There, she sprawls out happily on the luxurious bed and slips into meditation, where - she suspects - she has a very, very happy daughter waiting to thank her properly.

Keris wakes within a dream to find herself within a grand hall that she’s never seen before. Its high-vaulted roof is made of roots which knit together at the top, and it’s lit by bright-burning flower-lanterns which hang down like stars.

Countess Elly is here, waiting for Keris and shaking like a leaf out of nerves. She has a written script in her hands, which she reads from.

“Um... the pr-princess Haneyl bids her m-mother greetings and... um, invites her to an intimate s-soiree,” she stammers. “If you w-will follow me, the princess has made an outfit for y-you to wear.”

Gosh, Keris considers. She really is much, much less self-confident than Rounen. She smiles at the memory of the little trick that Rounen and Cissidy pulled on her.

“I will be pleased to attend her Highness,” Keris says, taking pity on the poor girl and pulling her hair in to at least seem a little smaller. “Show me to this outfit.”

Keris is shown to an antechamber - one which is full of plant life and such things. It’s quite beautiful, especially since Haneyl seems to have stolen unmelting ice from Rathan to make the roof so the entire thing is like a greenhouse. The angyalkae-tree is in there, too - perhaps as a silent note of apology to Keris.

Hanging up is... uh, what looks somewhat like a harness and somewhat like a collection of vines. Keris checks it suspiciously. Even by her standards, it’s rather daring - and covers almost nothing. But... she sniffs it. Ah, yes, it’s alive. And it’s a demon.

... has Haneyl made her own breed of peronelle?

She runs a curious finger down one of its vines, cocks an ear to its reaction and licks at it before shrugging it on with casual flexibility that’s only somewhat hampered by her pregnancy. Her Amulet stays on, but only as a thumbnail-sized fleck of silvery gold in the hollow of her throat. As soon as it’s on, it comes alive. She feels roots crawl against - and possibly into - her skin, while woody vines run along her arms and up and down her spine. The roots knit together weaving into fabric which wraps around her body and... oh yes, she can certainly feel the roots forcing hair-thin tendrils into her pores. It’s a distinctly odd feeling. It even tries to cover her face, until she snaps back at it.

And then, one by one, buds form all over and then flower. Suddenly the grey under-layer blossoms into a flowing floral dress, hiding the roots that have formed a second skin for her. The woody vines flex and move with her arms.

Keris smiles. It’s not as subtle as a peronelle, but it smells nicer. And she can feel the strength in the wooden vines. She feels like she could jump much higher and further with this helping her.

“Well then!” she laughs in delight. “Look at _you_. You’re like...” She twists and turns a few times, grinning widely. “You’re like a peronelle for attack instead of defence! Oh, I _like_ you. Kuha is definitely getting one of your siblings.”

Departing from the room, following Elly’s lead, she finds herself led to what appears to be Haneyl’s interpretation of some of the great demon parties of Calibration. There are lots and lots of keruby flocking around, along with other breeds of demon, there’s lots of angyalka around and... Keris grins happily. Lots of Haneyl-made food.

... admittedly, this means there’s a lot of meat on platters, but Keris is entirely happy about this. As are the little sziromkeruby, who have discovered the cocktail stick.

At the top of a grand staircase, Princess Haneyl appears, clearly having been waiting there right until her mother showed up. She’s looking very adorable, even by Haneyl’s standards. There’s a faint happy blush to her pale cheeks, her hair is done up in an elaborate arrangement and threaded with gold, her floral tiara rests upon it, and for the first time in a long time she’s actually wearing her gold robe.

Keris frowns. It’s fitting her now. How peculiar. She’s grown, but she didn’t realise her daughter had grown that much. Perhaps she adjusted the set of it.

Either way, though, Keris’ heart swells with pride at sight of her daughter as this mature-for-her-age, beautiful young lady. Keris remembers living on the streets and a a scene like this is something... something she never even dreamed about.

“Friends,” Haneyl announces. “Servants. My chosen nobles. May I insist you all give your love and devotion to my mother - and to me, because I made you all. I was going to delay this party until my _actual_ birthday, but because mother has been so _wonderful_ today I decided to have it now to thank her and then let her organise a second party for me.”

Keris barely manages to bite back a snort - trust Haneyl to leverage a show of profound gratitude into two parties - and blows her daughter a kiss as the assorted demons give her a cheer and massed bow. Swaying her way through the crowd, she reaches Haneyl and bends down to drop a kiss on her forehead, just below the tiara.

“I do like this flower-dress demon,” she says in admiration. “Very nice work. What are you calling them?”

“Oh, I’m still playing with them,” Haneyl says, after giving her mother a hug. “I really want them to be able to set people on fire with burning pollen, but that isn’t a thing this one can do. There have been a few accidents so I thought it better to give you one of the cultivars that is stable.”

“Oh, that _would_ be fun,” Keris agrees, grinning at the thought. “Hmm. Maybe different sub-breeds? Tell me if you want some help, though... heh.” She chuckles quietly. “I think you’ve created as many demons than I have, at this point.” She takes Haneyl’s hand in her own and gives it a gentle squeeze. “My clever girl.”

“Thank you, mama,” Haneyl says. She pulls Keris down by the neck - which doesn’t seem to be as far up as it used to be - and gives her a peck on the lips. “I really liked what you did today,” she says softly. “I... they’re going to like us, mama! And we’re going to get our own _gods_ and the tide goddess was quite nice so she’ll be nicer when we own her and then we can own the island they boss around. And make it all pretty and nice. Thank you, mama.”

“The rest of the manse network, too,” Keris reminds her happily. “That’ll be good. I’m pretty sure some of them were made as refueling stations, so if I can find a way to turn Water hearthstones into Kimbery ones, I’ve got the Baisha sorted out.” She winks. “And that means it can go further, and we can make even more things ours!”

Haneyl makes a happy sort of purring noise and cuddles into Keris’s side. Apparently she likes that prospect.

Perhaps it was the feeling of that party with Haneyl. Perhaps it was just how she’s been working for weeks with the Hui Cha. Maybe she absorbed it somehow from the gods.

But regardless of the precise origin, as Keris says goodbye to the tide-goddess, she can somehow tell that she’s been more useful to the goddess than even she thought. She’s benefitted in some big way from this.

“And it was lovely to meet you, sweetie,” she says to Keris, kissing her on both cheeks. Her silver eyes glisten. “Don’t be a stranger. Perhaps if you have more success getting established, we might be able to trade off worship a little bit. Would you like to tell the silly mortals that we’re family? And if you’re not successful, well, there’s a local mangrove god who’s not very friendly to me. If you could dispose of him, you could try to take his position, my friend.”

“Is he causing you any trouble?” Keris asks as she kisses back. “I may take a look at him if I’m in the area.” She eyes Muda Mena’s face as she draws back, looking for the micro-expressions that she’s starting to learn. It seems to be worth... well, Keris doesn’t feel it’s life and death to her, but she’d consider it a considerable favour if he was to be out of her hair.

She doesn’t promise anything, but she certainly hints that she might hunt him down if her search takes him to his general area - and Muda Mena is all too happy to provide her with quite a detailed description of where that is.

The Scourge is smiling contentedly as she waves Rounen and Cissidy over from where they’ve been waiting for her outside the tower and steps back into the sea.

YOU TOOK YOUR TIME, Cissidy signs. POOR LITTLE ROUNEN GOT LONELY WITHOUT YOU.

“Did not!” he retorts, fire blazing brighter.

DID TOO.

“Well,” Keris says smugly, “we now have one manse-tower full of gods who are loyal to me. So.” She cracks her knuckles and grins. “Who’s up for finding the rest?”

“Me! Me me me!” Rounen says, bouncing up and down. “So what did you get up to, my lady? Do you have any fun stories for me to write down?”

Keris nods happily. “Quite a few.”


	8. Chapter 8

There is an unpleasant surprise waiting for Keris as she heads out into the ocean, heading towards the other location she has calculated the old maps translate the manse locations into.

Oh, the tower poking up from the ocean is certainly - once she takes a closer look - a sibling-manse to the ones the gods are occupying. But it’s a mess - there’s no two ways about it. It’s utterly covered in guano until it’s nearly impossible at first glance to tell it was made by human hands. Small plants grow on the soil. And there are birds everywhere, nestling in the abandoned rooms and in the broken top of the tower. Keris purses her lips and wrinkles her nose at the stench. A cautious prod with a firmin-resin spear reveals that the stuff will burn, though...

((Cog+Occult; 4+5+2 stunt=11. 10 sux. Wow. Yeah, that’s easily enough for this bit of trivia.))

... though, she thinks, isn’t guano meant to be... good for plants? Like. Really, _really_ good for plants. Something about how the stomachs of birds concentrate Wood essence in their dung.

So she has a tower covered in gunk that, while smelly, is probably worth its literal weight in silver.

“I think I’ll leave this one for now,” Keris decides. “And inform the Hui Cha about it. And then come back with a lot of men and ships. And steal it all.”

Firisutu raises a finger and chitters a question.

“... shut up,” Keris responds. “From, I dunno. The birds? Look, I said I’m going to steal it so I am. Rounen, make a note.”

“I believe it may be too far away from them to easily do it,” Dulmea says, amusement in her voice. “Also, your proud pirate princelings may not want to sully their vessels with bird dung. You might need to make your own arrangements - especially to ensure that whoever you bring in is loyal enough to not sell out a manse location to your foes.”

“Bah,” Keris waves a hand. “They’ll not think it so dirty when I crate it up and turn it into silver. Though... you have a point about the manse location.” She purses her lips. “Demons, then. Maybe in one of my small...” She pauses, glancing up at the tower. “... one of my large stolen ships. Regardless, we have the location now, and there’s nothing we can do here without spending more time than I want to.”

Keris has a little bit more work to do here, examining the local geomancy and seeing just how far off it is. She has a pleasant surprise - there’s still some geomantic power in this area, diffuse though it may be. If she ever tried to bring it back online, she wouldn’t need to create a brand new demesne.

Of course, she also hears strange singing in the water. It isn’t human. No human sings that loud, or... well, like that underwater at all. It sounds a bit like whales - but it’s not like them, either.

Her first instinct is to reach for her spear. Her last two encounters with things that sang - both within rock and underwater - were not positive.

She’s... pretty sure that this singing isn’t coming from a giant monster centipede, though. Or a horrible shrieking terrifying crystal... thing.

Still, she’s not willing to sing back unless she knows what she’s singing to. She’s learned that much, at least. Turning in the water and keeping her spear at the ready, Keris jets off to find the song’s source.

It’s only her superhuman reaction speed - and a little bit of help from Dulmea - that allow her to flip the things her clothes are made of in time when the wave of sound comes in. There’s a clicking pulse, like what she’s heard whales do - far too high pitched for any human to hear! She narrows her eyes and jets nearer, wary for any more pulses, listening to the echoes of the pulse as it comes back. Whatever sent it has helped her as much as itself - she can hear the sound reflecting off everything in the water. There’s more and more. But the funny thing is, she can hear them by their own sonar. Keris perks her ears up as she maps out the area by reflected sound.

Oh yes, she can hear them well. She can do what they do - only better.

There’s a cluster of things that are shaped like killer whales down there. Keris thinks ‘shaped like’ because she doesn’t think they are killer whales. Not quite. She’s heard a few in the waters around An Teng, and heard their shapes. But these things have arms, instead of flippers at the front. They’re wearing harnesses, with coral-tipped spears and sharp rocks and other such things tied to them. They even have coral and bone piercings in their skin!

And from what she can hear of their skulls and their internal organs, something about them sounds... human. Like they’d used human organs to make an orca.

((Are any of them injured or hurt?))   
((One has a broken arm, but it’s been splinted with bone and seaweed bindings.))

Keris drifts lower, curious. She hangs back a little, letting the orca-things pass her, and then follows behind them in the turbulent water of their passage, listening to the sounds they make. There’s more than just clicking and song there, that’s for sure. The noises have the patterns of words and speech. She can’t understand them - hell, she’s not even sure she could make the sounds they’re making without mutating herself in some way - but there’s a real pattern and flow to the way they’re communicating. It’s like listening to people talking in a foreign language.

“Mama,” Rathan breathes from somewhere behind her right ear. “What kind of fishies are these? They sound so pretty.”

“They’re killer whales, sweetie,” she tells him, jetting forward a little to get a better sound-picture of them and opening her mouth to taste the water they’ve moved through. “Well, killer whale... people.” She pauses. “Oh, hmm. They might be beastmen, actually. Orcamen?” She cocks an ear and corrects herself. “Orcawomen, I mean. And some orcamen.” She smiles. “Do you like how they’re singing, or what their bodies sound like?”

“I don’t _know_ what their bodies sound like, mama. Normal people like me or Hanny or Granny can’t tell what shape things are just by the sound,” Rathan says wearily. “It’s just noise. You’re Echoing right now.”

((Hmm. How deep are they? Is there any light?))   
((Deep enough that there’s not much light. On the other hand, they do periodically come up for air.))

“Oh.” Keris’s face colours slightly. “Sorry, sweetheart. Well, if you want to see them properly, I could follow them until they come up for air. Then we can take a good long look at what they’re like. Normal orcas are a bit like dolphins, but much bigger, and they hunt whales. Would you like that?”

“They’re giant dolphins that eat whales?” Rathan says, delight in his voice. “That’s so cool. Dolphins are the prettiest sea creatures. And they’re mammys!”

“They are! Well done for knowing that!” Keris praises, effortlessly keeping up with the pod. She considers forcing them up right now, but she’d rather not let them know she’s there without a good reason. Listening carefully to the creak of muscle and bone, she tries to guess how much air is in their lungs, and how soon the pod will have to surface.

It must have been a while since they last came up for air, because it’s fairly soon when one of the smaller ones breaks for the surface, followed by several others. It’s one of the males, Keris thinks. The immature ones are both male and female, but all the adults are females. With strong strokes of their powerful tails, they head up to the surface. Keris circles around them, her Amulet-dress mirroring the colour of the water around her, and gets a good long look at their sleek forms with Rathan behind her eyes.

They breach with jets of water from their blowholes. There are quite a few, and they vary in size from very small ones - only perhaps two metres in length - to ones who are nearly as large as the adult females, four-to-five metres. The natural orcas she’s heard are a little bigger, but the adults below are still a good five-to-six metres from nose to tail. They have the distinctive fin and black and white pattern of their animal counterpart, and while she can hear residual leg bones inside them, none seem to break the surface of the skin. Their skulls are rounder than natural orcas, their brains larger, and they have molars like human beings. Their eyes, Keris notices, are totally human.

And their strange sea-made harnesses and piercings are... surprisingly pretty. They clearly pick the colours of coral carefully, and they even seem to weave seaweed into attractive harnesses. One of them - a large, nearly adult female - has wave-like tattoos on her white patches.

Yes, they’re certainly not dumb animals. They might not have metal, but they do what they can with what they have.

“... they’re _gorgeous_ , mama!” Rathan breathes, sounding possibly more delighted than Keris has ever heard him sound about anything that isn’t her. “Look at how pretty they are! And how they move in the water!” He sighs rapturously. “I want to be pretty like that, mama. Then everyone would love me.”

Keris raises an eyebrow. “You... want to be an orca when you grow up?” she asks.

“I can if I want to!” Rathan insists. “I’d be all big and pretty and pink and red!”

Grinning, Keris flips down into the water and heads away from the pod, back on course for the manse network she’s exploring. “Well, you’re already a moon and Haneyl’s a tree, so I suppose you might be able to take on other forms when you grow up,” she admits. “I know the Unquestionable have many forms, and... I think some of their souls have more than one, too. Are you going to be a big pretty orca made out of ice like your moon, then?”

“Hmm,” Rathan says considerately. “Maybe. Maybe I might just want to have pretty skin like them. Oh! Or like the coral they have!”

“That _would_ be pretty,” Keris agrees. “Tell you what. Next time I see a normal orca pod, I’ll try to hypnotise them with your light so you can get a feel for them, does that sound good?”

“Yes, mama!” Rathan says happily. “You do give Haneyl _way_ more presents than me,” his tone turns a little sullen, “and that’s not really fair, is it?”

Keris hangs her head, which turns out not to be a good idea in the fast-moving current around her, and spends a few seconds sputtering and getting her hair back under control. “It’s not, no,” she says when she’s back to normal. “What presents would you like? Haneyl asks for things all the time, but you’re more patient and quiet, aren’t you?” She says the last sentence with a hushed, conspiratorial air and a wink.

“She just wants _things_ all the time,” Rathan says, pouting. “Things aren’t important. But things are attention, and sometimes it makes me feel you care about her more.” His voice takes on a heartbreaking tone. “Or Calesco. You care about Calesco a lot even though she’s mean and cruel all the time. She’s mean to you and she’s mean to me. And she splits between having tea parties with Hanny and being mean to her.”

Leaving her body to swimming for a moment, Keris closes her eyes and steps out into her Domain. She gathers Rathan up into her arms and cuddles him, kissing him on the forehead and squeezing her eyes tight shut to stave off tears.

“I am sorry,” she murmurs to him. “I said I would try to be better, and I’m not doing very well at it, am I? I’ll try harder.” She rocks him back and forth gently as he squirms round to cling to her neck. “How about... how about you start helping me on my planning of what I’m going to do against the Realm? That’s an important job that I have to do, even if Calesco doesn’t like it, and it means you can spend time with me every day when I plan it and tell me what you think and I’ll listen to your ideas and we can decide on how to kick them out of An Teng like they deserve.”

Rathan pulls a face. “I don’t think they’ve really done much to _deserve_ it,” he says, considering things. “I think there’s people we should be hurting more. Like slavers!”

Keris begins to nod, then pauses and smiles nastily. “Well,” she points out, “if we’re talking about people who _deserve_ it... we never did catch that Dead Exalt, did we?”

“I think we already beat her, though,” Rathan says. “We took her ship! Well, our ship!”

“Our ship is the _best_ ship,” Keris agrees. “Slavers first, then. We can take over some of the other Saatan fleets more nastily than we’re doing to the Hui Cha. Or just destroy them outright.”

Rathan claps his hands happily, and leans in to kiss his mother on the brow. “Yay,” he says gleefully. “But, oh! Maybe you do need to hurt the Realm! Because if you do something really cool and showy and pretty, everyone will like us at the big party in Hell!”

“That’s right,” Keris says. “And we want _everyone_ to like us and think we’re the _best_ and be really impressed and not want to say any mean things about us, don’t we? Ever. And we also want to make Ululaya really jealous and upset that she insulted us when we’re so good, so that she hates herself for being so stupid and ugly and mean.”

He makes a little gleeful noise and snuggles up to her closer.

Keris suits word to deed. She has two manses - enough for now - so it’s time to turn her thoughts toward the Realm. Jetting around the coast of Shuu Mua, she heads back to the reef where the Baisha is waiting for Kuha’s return.

The Baisha is docked just outside Saata, hidden underwater. Kuha is not yet back when Keris returns near sunset, the bloody sun setting behind the bulk of the island. “Productive,” is her answer when the Priest asks how her search went. “No definite fuel sources for the Baisha, but a few good leads. And I might be able to carve out some territory on the far side of Shuu Mua to use as a base. Easily within our range, but there aren’t any signs of the Realm out there.”

She hums thoughtfully, excuses herself and heads down to check the armoury for her algarel supplies. If Kuha does come back with news of a dam, a few barrels of the stuff would be a perfect way to breach the dam from a safe distance.

When Kuha returns, she’s mildly sunburned - except for the paler patches on skin on her eyes where she was wearing her goggles.

“Kerishyra,” she says, hopping off her ribbon-horse’s back in mid-air and gliding down to give Keris a hug. “It is good that you are waiting for me. I saw the big village from the air, as you told me to. The big village contains many tribes of people, and many sea-ships outside.”

Keris hugs back, spinning her round a couple of times. “Perfect. With luck we can salvage some of the ships. Did you follow the river up?”

“I did follow the river,” Kuha says. She rummages in her satchel, pulling out what looks like some of Rounen’s paper. She’s drawn on it in charcoal, in a strange aerial map which doesn’t look much like anything Keris has seen before. It was made by a culture that wasn’t literate, but - she’s now realising - still had a form of proto-writing used for recording things from the air. There’s symbols on it that look like trees and there’s a strange cross-hatched thing that might be a river and there are all kinds of icons which clearly mean something to Kuha, even if Keris can’t grasp the meaning.

Of course, Keris thinks with a wince, it’s likely Kuha didn’t understand everything she was seeing herself.

“Right,” she agrees, making a mental note to learn this script when the opportunity arises. “Let’s go inside and you can take me through it.”

((Cog + Lore for Keris to interpret what she’s trying to explain.))   
((3+2+2 stunt+5 Kimmy Excellency {planning to _drown all opposition_ with _elegant practicality_ }=12. Argh! 2 sux. : (.))

Clustered around a table, Kuha - with the help of her peronelle - explains the symbols on the map and her journey up and down the river as Keris struggles to understand. There are more than a few educated guesses involved. Keris really needs to do something about their communication. Unfortunately, it seems that Kuha - who never saw a settlement larger than Testolagh’s before she took up with Keris - still doesn’t understand the ground and way people live. She’s very detailed on the trees and the locations of rivers and the like, but her settlements are marked little better than ‘houses are here’.

((Did she notice a dam upriver? I’d guess that would be an obvious Weird Thing in the river.))   
((No sign of one as far as Keris can tell.))

Keris thanks her and takes the map to her chart room. Crouching over it thoughtfully, she gives Rathan a mental prod.

“So,” she says, “it doesn’t look like there are any dams upriver we can breach to flood the town that way. What else could we do?” She chews a hair tendril, casually rolling into a handstand that she pushes up into a hairstand. With four firm supports, she rises vertically until her feet brush the ceiling, then rolls back down to curl around her belly.

“I could flood the place with your help,” she says. “That’d be obviously Hellish, and I could maybe, hmm. Grab something from the Wailing Fen and leave it there to get them looking in the wrong direction.”

She sighs and sprawls out on her back. “Or I could just blow the whole place sky-high. Surface the Baisha, let rip with the algaral ballistae. I’m just... not sure I want to play my hand that fast. I want flashy, but not ‘get a Wyld Hunt looking for me specifically’ flashy.”

Rathan twirls a lock of his red hair in his fingers. “Why not just walk around and kill everyone?” he asks reasonably. “I’ll make sure the mean people don’t blame you for hurting them when they probably deserved it anyway. Or sneak around and kill as many people sneakily and I’ll stop them suspecting you if they notice you.”

Keris hums thoughtfully. “That... might work,” she admits. “Hmm. Though, actually. Isn’t it a silver town? Maybe I shouldn’t kill them all. Maybe I should make them all love me and _steal_ the town. You can help make all of them pay attention to me, and I can tell them how mean and horrible the Realm is and how they should give me all their ships and silver and fight the Realm themselves.”

Rathan snuggles up to Keris. “That’s even better,” he says happily. “People are better if they love you rather than hate you. Punishing people for being bad is one thing, but making them love you is better!” Rathan pauses. “But what when the Realm tries to stop you?”

Keris considers. “Well,” she says. “If you and Haneyl worked together, you could make them all love me and let me plant seeds in them, so then they would want to help me even after I’d left. Then it wouldn’t matter if the Realm came to destroy them all, because they wouldn’t give me up - and I could tell them to run away into the countryside if that happened, and then come to me.”

She hums. “Or I could just go there with a different face,” she adds. “And pretend to be - heh - a Tengese Solar. Then the Realm would look really stupid, chasing the wrong person. Oh!” A wide grin spreads across her face. “And if all I do is get them to let me take all of their silver and ships without killing them... I can do it again later!”

Rathan chews on his lip. “But I don’t know if I can stop a Dragonblood hating you,” he says, nervously. “They’ll hurt you if they find you. And then they’ll all hate you. That’s horrible! I don’t want them to hate you!”

“Rathan, sweetheart.” Keris cuddles him. “You’re still little, so I won’t expect you to win against scary Dragonblooded yet. Remember that mean one who stopped my slingshot? You’ll be able to beat them when you’re bigger, but for now we’ll just play it safe, and if we meet a Dragonblood who hates me I’ll kill them with my spear. Then they can’t go and tell anyone else about us. Okay?”

((Please don’t make me have to run a fight against an Exalt. Combat bleargh.))   
((I will try to avoid it. : P))

Rathan sniffles. “Okay,” he says quietly.

“Now,” Keris says, “how about we go and do something while I think about it some more? Maybe some painting or calligraphy?”


	9. Chapter 9

After a few days back in Saata making sure her affairs are in order - and a meet-up with her contacts in the triads to make sure that everything is going as it’s meant to - Keris sets up north, heading to the Ledaal company town.

The company town is called Agenete. That isn’t a Tengese name - it’s a Realm name. There used to be an older settlement there, which specialised in silverwork, but it was only ever a small place. Then House Ledaal somehow got control of the area and decided to turn it into a place that would allow them to channel the Tengese silverwork into a place owned and run by the Realm - specifically by them, They rebuilt the entire place, building it Realm style and making it a shipping harbour that avoided the old Tengese tariffs. Keris comes at it from the water, swimming up the river and slipping out into the town. A quick shadow-guise lets her blend into the population, and she begins her survey, looking for ship numbers and silver.

Oh, it’s so obviously a Realm place. They’ve built it with whitewashed walls and red clay roofs, and there’s no icons or images anywhere. There are many, many smoke-spewing chimneys throughout, and Keris can taste the alchemical compounds polluting the water from the outlets.

It’s a low town on the shoreline with a good number of junks more in the extensive shipyards, along with smaller coastal vessels. Keris sees Ledaal auxiliaries in blue-trimmed orders patrolling the town. They seem to be brutally firm in keeping the sailors under control.

In all honesty, if there was ever a port town that was the opposite of Saata, it’s this place.

Pressing her lips together, Keris keeps an ear on their conversations as she heads into the town. She’s not sure whether they actually stockpile silver here, but if it’s a port for moving it, they probably at least have a place to keep the stuff for short periods. If there aren’t any Dragonblooded in town, that means she’s in business. If there are... well, she’ll work something out if she hears as much from the auxiliaries.

((Reaction + Bureaucracy to listen out for pertinent business information))   
((5+0+2 stunt+2 Coadj=9. 8 sux, _whoa_. Or 20 if her hearing bonus applies, but just that raw value is _whoa_.))

Fortunately for Keris, she stumbles straight across a complaining bureaucrat who’s arguing loudly in poorly pronounced Tengese Firetongue with some carters about misplaced silver. From what she hears, the way things work is that while the silver ore is refined down into pure silver up in the mountains, the bars of silver are then shipped down here. The places which work with silver get fairly regular deliveries, but they always try to keep some here - and they stockpile their silver until it’s shipped up to the Realm. They keep up plenty of security, though - the Tengese highlanders hate this place and what it means for them.

_Excellent_ , Keris thinks happily. That’s... that’s just wonderful. She steals herself a couple of sweet bean paste wraps to snack on, and goes looking for the stockpile. Ideally she’d steal all of the ships as well, but that might be trickier to do all on her own, even if Rathan can stop people from thinking she’s doing anything wrong. Maybe she could just sail them off one by one, and have the Baisha waiting nearby to lash them together and tow them?

“Mama,” Rathan says, warningly. “You know grandma says you don’t know how to sail.”

Keris flaps her hand. “I know how to sail enough to get ships moving,” she scoffs. “Like you! All you have to do is get the water to move the boat, right? It’s easy!”

“It’s not easy!” Rathan protests. “I only make it look easy because I had to practice a lot so I could show off by making it look like I wasn’t trying.”

“Then you’ll have to help me with it,” Keris says. “I’m sure with both of us together there’s nothing that can stop us, right?”

“If you think so, mama,” Rathan says.

The silver storage is Keris’s first goal. That won’t be hard - she just looks for the most heavily guarded place in the town. She also eavesdrops on a few more conversations in the hopes of finding out who’s in charge. If there are any Dragonblooded here who might present a threat to her slowly-forming scheme, they’ll probably be in a position of authority.

The silver is stored in solid, well-guarded warehouses kept within the walls of a Realm-built castle. Keris hears that there’s a careful system of checks for anyone going in and out, complete with a cunning contraption consisting of a hallway which is measured on weights. Anyone walking in or out has their weight recorded, so no one can steal from the secure and well-guarded area.

It is said that this is a similar system as used in Ledaal treasuries in the Realm itself. Keris has to seclude herself on a rooftop for a giggling fit upon hearing that, and sets out to confirm who’s in charge of the town before moving on what she’s already thinking of as _her_ silver.

The individual in charge of this town is Ledaal Nala, a middle-aged woman and mortal member of the family. She holds the title of baroness in the Tengese hierarchy, but she allegedly treats a barbarian title with disdain and considers herself to be a ‘prefect’. That’s the last thing Keris needs to hear. Fairly confident that there aren’t any Dragonblooded around - though she keeps an ear out for anything that sounds like jade or Awakened Essence - she calls up a new shadow-guise. A man of the High Lands, with the essence of a young Solar.

Then she sweetly asks Rathan to shield her from blame, and walks into the silver warehouse.

((Activating MOE and BOT, disguised as an E6 Tengese Highlands Solar. Per+Exp roll for BOT:   
3+5+2 stunt+4 Kimmy ExSux {self-defined victim, beauty, charm, poise}+5 Enlightenment autosux=10. 3+4+5=12 sux.))

“Excuse me,” says one of the guards at the entrance to the castle, spear in hand. “I’m sorry, but no one is allowed in here without permission. Sorry, sir.”

“I need to be in here,” Keris tells him, pushing past. “I have permission.”

The man looks lost and confused, but grits his teeth. “I’m sorry,” he says, “but you need to show me your token. I’m sure you must have it but... but I haven’t seen it and I’m sorry, but you don’t know what they’ll do to me if I let anyone through if they didn’t show me their token.”

Keris considers him for a moment. Realm guards, it seems, are well-trained. He can’t quite push through the fog of innocence Rathan is surrounding her in, but he can tell something is wrong. “Of course,” she says after brief thought. “I must have forgotten it. I’ll fetch it at once.”

He sags in relief as Keris turns and walks away. “Thank you, sir. I’m sure you didn’t mean it,” he says.

“Just a misunderstanding,” she agrees, smiling at him and retreating. Rathan draws breath as if to start a tantrum, but Keris shushes him.

‘No need to be upset, sweetie,’ she says. ‘We didn’t lose anything there, and we still have plenty of other ways to get in. We could steal a token from someone, or we could sneak in.’ She purses her lips, considering how much traffic the building probably gets, and whether the tokens are likely to be personalised. ‘Sneaking in past the first layer might be easier,’ she decides. ‘I wonder if we can get over the walls without being seen?’

With some investigation, Keris finds that they certainly don’t work through the night here - another way this place isn’t like Saata. If she wants to sneak in, night is the best time. She considers sending a message to the Baisha. It would take her ship a little under two days to get here, and it would certainly help her steal the junks. The question is whether it would be worth the fuel it would take for the Baisha to reach her. Keris has been relatively frugal with her sailing, but it’s still been four months without resupply of the Kimberian hearthstones that power it, and it’s almost two thousand miles from Saata to An Teng.

On the other hand, with chains lashing the larger junks to the Baisha and a demonic crew, she can move a _lot_ of ships very quickly, especially if she picks a night when the wind is blowing out to sea. It’ll mean waiting, but she has more than enough time.

Keris comes to a decision, and sends the Messenger. She can entertain herself for a couple of days - and while she waits for the Baisha, she can visit Sasi again and give her a heads-up on what she’s planning. If she times it right, she can steal the silver early in the night and then wait until everyone is panicking to take the boats. With luck, the Realm forces will be pulled away to search around the castle for signs of the thief, making her job even easier.

There’s no response from the Baisha, but Keris has to assume that it’ll be on its way.

“I do not think this is a good plan,” Dulmea says in Keris’ mind. “You will directly anger the Realm. Do you plan to kill everyone here? Because if you do not, there will be news getting out.”

“I know there will,” Keris replies, slipping back into the river to head north up the coast towards Sasi. “That would be why I’m disguised as a Highlander and a Solar. It’ll draw their attention in completely the wrong direction, and get them stomping about and angering the Tengese up there. Who are, I’ll remind you, stuck-up and conservative and traditional, and the least happy with the Realm’s dominance.” She smiles beatifically. “Which means they’ll get _very_ upset. Maybe even rebel. There’s a lot of things I could do with a rebellion.”

Sasi’s rural estate she has... ahem, acquired... is a nice place. It’s relaxing and quiet.

For about five minutes.

“You’re doing _what?_ ”

Sasi does not seem happy.

Keris backs away hastily. “My... job?” she says; more as a question than a statement. “Ruining the Dynasts that make money from An Teng? The... one the Althing gave me?”

“There’s that... and then there’s bringing down the wrath of House Ledaal and the Immaculate Order on An Teng!” Sasi snaps. “I have gone to a lot of work to try to avoid there being _any_ suspicion of Anathama being in An Teng! I have had blazing rows with Deveh over the fact that he’s a moron who’s acting far too overtly! And...” she flaps her hand. “Argh!”

“And I’m not planning to _be_ overt,” Keris argues. “I’m sending them on a wild goose chase; they’ll find _nothing_ and look like idiots! But I need to cripple them _somehow_ , and a castle full of silver and a shipyard full of junks don’t just vanish all by themselves, so I need a scapegoat!”

“But they’ll be looking! And when they don’t find anything, they’ll start looking for signs of Solar influence!” She pinches her brow. “Keris, dear,” she says, seeming to calm down, “could you try... not blaming it on a Solar anathema? Pretend to be a Fire-aspected pirate or something who burns the harbour down and steals all the silver. That’ll give the Navy something to do, but won’t look like the problem’s from inside An Teng. I want An Teng to look quiet, fat and happy.”

Keris purses her lips. “I _was_ planning to burn the harbour,” she admits. “But will they buy the silver theft from a Dragonblood? I mean, _I_ can get it,” Keris says this with some pride, “but it’s behind castle walls and a bunch of armed guards. I was planning on just walking in with Rathan and taking it, and I’m not sure a Dragonblood could pull that off.”

Sasi leans in, frowning. “Well, how is it protected? If they’re just mortals, surely a pirate Dragonblood would just kill the guards. Well, or be an air aspect and go in through the roof, though getting out large amounts of silver would be hard without help.”

“They’re in a guarded warehouse in a guarded castle - and the guards are good. Strong-willed and alert. They’re mortals, but I need to do the castle quietly,” Keris explains. “The problem is, the silver is... actually the less important theft, in a way. The docks are my real target. I can wipe out a fair chunk of the Ledaal fleet, which hurts them a lot - and more importantly, I can steal the biggest vessels for myself.”

She wrinkles her nose in annoyance. “But to do _that_ , I need to bring the Baisha in close to the shore to tow them away. And _that_ means I need the silver theft to be discovered _after_ I’m out and once I’m at the docks, so that everyone panics and heads there to look for signs of what happened and where the thief went and why everything is on fire. Because if the Baisha gets seen,” she points out, “then it means trouble. Big trouble. The Realm won’t ignore that.”

Sasi sighs. “I’m sorry for shouting at you,” she says, reasonably. “Things are a little stressful for me right now, with some of the events that are happening at the court of the Prince of the Shore Lands. But... please, perhaps consider this instead. I don’t think you can steal ships like that from a harbour - not without people seeing the Baisha. Just be a nice obvious Fire Aspect, wrecking the harbour with your burning anima. If you want ships, it’s much better to pick them off when they’re not in a Realm town surrounded by witnesses. I realise it’s slower, yes, but a little patience behooves us all.”

Her gaze dips. “It’ll really, really help me if you don’t send the Immaculate Order scurrying around like insects,” she says warmly. “I promise I’ll make it up to you later.”

Keris shifts uncomfortably. “I... okay,” she sighs. “I won’t upset the Order. I _do_ want to avoid a Wyld Hunt, if I can,” she admits. “And I wouldn’t want to make your job harder.”

She frowns. “Actually, what is your job?” she asks. “I know mine is to ruin the Dynastic trade out of An Teng, but you’re working with the Tengese themselves, aren’t you?”

Sasi shakes her head, smiling. “I’m one of the Blasphemous, remember? The Unquestionable desire the nobility of An Teng to worship them - so that’s what I’m doing. Family by family, clan by clan, I’m bringing them to worship a chosen patron for each family.”

Keris whistles, and then frowns. “Wait, but didn’t the Shashalme- oh, right. They want all of it, not just one family.” She blinks. “So _that’s_ why they came to me instead of you!”

“Almost certainly,” Sasi agrees. “There are so many Unquestionable, each one looking for total dominion and total devotion.”

“And you’re stuck between them,” Keris sympathises, patting her hand. “Poor you. I’m glad my orders are as simple as they are.”

“It could be worse,” Sasi says, snuggling up to Keris. Their previous fight seems to be entirely over now. “At least An Teng is comfortable - and being the chief priestess of so many cults is quite... pleasing in its own way. All these rituals and all the things they do - and the way all these nobles do what I say.”

Keris grins. “I’ll bet. Oh! I almost forgot!” She fishes in her hair for a moment and pulls out a largeish box. “I asked some of the women in Saata - speaking like I was planning for mine - and... Aiko is coming up on ten months now, right? So they said she should be walking soon?”

“Oh, yes. I’ve been working with her. I’ve been trying to coax her into crawling as a human.” Sasi sighs. “She is utterly casual with which of her skins she wears. She doesn’t seem to see any point in crawling as a human when she can crawl as a dragon.”

Keris grins. “Well, this might help.” She pulls the lid off the box to reveal a little four-wheeled push-cart with a comfortable handle to help an unsteady toddler’s balance and a basket to put things in. The poles and panels are silver, engraved with flowing patterns that bring to mind waves and sea grass.

“A couple of the women said that toys like this help babies with toddling when they’re still unsteady,” Keris says, looking proud and a little nervous. “The, uh. The plating is silver, but there’s vitriol-brass underneath, so it should stand up to a good knocking around without being damaged. And you can adjust the handle up a bit as she grows.”

“Oh, that’s very nice,” Sasi says, smiling. “You know what, you can go give it to her. It’ll make her so happy to get something like this from you!”

Keris preens at the praise, and then readies herself for another confrontation with the little hellbea- princess. Hell princess. Princess of Hell.

Yes. That.

Passing the toy trolley in to Dulmea, she heads into the next room in a way that definitely doesn’t bear any parallels at all to her going to confront some horrible monster, shut _up_ Echo.

... a horrible monster would probably be easier. She’s allowed to stab those.

“Aiko?” she calls, wondering whether Sasi would get mad at her for using Rathan as a shield to stop the little girl trying to spit fire or bite her. “Aiko, I have a present for you!”

Keris’ appearance is met with a green-eyed stare from the little girl who’s sitting on the floor, playing with painted wooden blocks. She was carefully building them into colour-sorted stacks, right up until Keris appeared.

She’s grown notably, even since Keris last saw her. Her hair, particularly, now reaches the small of her back - and is jet black and looks like it’s made of velvet or silk.

“... hello,” Keris says, waving lamely with her hair. “I like your, uh... blocks?” She’s a little reminded of Haneyl, and her intent, childish attention to how her courtiers and gardens are set up. Aiko simply stares at her. She’s apparently decided to watch Keris, at least until she does something interesting or goes away.

Keris tries not to smile at the fact that Aiko has clearly inherited her father’s eyebrows. They furrow very well. Kneeling down to get closer to Aiko’s level, she offers a smile. “Look,” she says in her calm, talking-to-children voice. “We should probably come to a truce, okay?” She checks that Sasi isn’t within earshot, which is... actually quite hard to judge, since Keris hasn’t had a human range of hearing for the better part of two years now. She’s pretty sure she’s safe, though.

“Fighting over Sasi isn’t working,” she admits. “Mostly because I don’t spend as much time with her as you. So I’m losing. So how about we make up and be friends? And you can let me spend some time with Sasi whenever I’m around, and in return I’ll bring you presents.”

She spreads her hair out, which at least earns her an interested expression, and reveals the toy push cart. Taking it by the handle, she demonstrates pushing it along the floor before rolling it over to the little girl.

((Sometimes I worry that I have too much fun with Keris’s dialogue.))   
((Okay that’s a lie; I never worry that.))

Aiko twists and shifts, and a little bronze-scaled dragon crawls along the ground over to the push cart. Curling around it, Aiko bites down on the handle.

... she seems surprised by the fact she can’t bite through the hardened vitriol-brass inner layer. Surprised enough to turn back into a little girl, and let out a nonsense-stream of angry-sounding almost-words that sound a lot like High Realm.

Keris shrugs. “Well I wasn’t going to give you a toy that you could _break_ ,” she points out reasonably. “Hmm. Maybe I should make you a scratching post. Or a chew toy. Since you don’t seem to want to use this one properly.”

Aiko glares at Keris again, pulling herself over to her and holding onto her leg. Another nonsense-babble comes out of her mouth, rising towards the end like it was a question.

“... yes?” Keris tries, unsure of what the question is. “It’s for you, if that’s what you’re asking. You can- hey!” She half-twists around as Firisutu emerges from her hair, clambering onto her head to get a good look at his surroundings. He looks down at Aiko and chirrups inquisitively.

Aiko tilts her head curiously at that. Well, that or gets bored of supporting her head upright. Either way, she reaches out with chubby fingers and tries to grab Firisutu’s skull out of his body.

“Hey hey hey!” Keris yelps, rescuing her familiar from the grasp of the tiny terror. “No pulling demons apart! That’s not nice!” She wags a finger in front of Aiko as Firisutu climbs around onto her back for protection and stares over her shoulder with wary eyes. Keris gets a surprise when she tries to pick up Aiko and put her in the cart, though. She’s a _lot_ heavier than she looks. No flesh and blood should feel that heavy while being a little baby. Raising an eyebrow, Keris cocks an ear to the girl’s body, listening to the song of her essence and flesh. She knows the girl is an akuma, but this isn’t just being inhuman, it’s being something beyond any kind of animal.

Aiko isn’t human. Not one bit. Her flesh is shadow, her bones are brass, her blood is fire. But it’s even deeper - Keris can’t hear a divide between Aiko’s body and her soul. She’s not an an immaterial manifest song of Essence, like a god - but in a lot of ways she’s more like a god than a human.

Keris strokes her chin thoughtfully. “Brass bones,” she muses. “No wonder you’re so heavy. And shadowy flesh and fire for blood... hmm.” She cocks her head. “I wonder. You’re not a god, but you’re closer to one than a human. So what happens if I...”

She settles herself on the floor as Aiko pushes herself around in her cart, reaches out and plucks a note on the strands of Time. Aiko’s attention snaps to her immediately, looking for the source of the noise. Keris smiles and plucks two more notes, letting the little girl see her fingers move.

Then, closing her eyes and cocking an ear to the sound of Aiko’s essence, she does her level best to let it flow down from her ears and into her fingers. Plucking music from the air and from Time itself, Keris plays Aiko the song of her own soul.

((Uh... what are you trying to do?))   
((No particular mechanical effect, but Keris’s playing is beautiful, and there’s a fair chance Aiko will like it. And I do like the image of Keris playing the essence-songs that almost nobody else can hear, especially when she’s playing a person’s soul-song to them - which I suspect will naturally tend to sound really pleasant to them unless they, like, hate themselves or something.))   
((So I guess this is basically an “appease and entertain Aiko” thing. Also an “attract Sasi with the sound of the music and show off to her” one. : P))   
((Well, Per + Expression to try to social-fu her with music.))   
((3+5+3 Time-Strung Harpist+1 bonus {resonate with a person’s nature}+2 stunt+8 Kimmy ExD {beauty, charm}=22. 13 sux. Lol as many successes as the best mortal musician alive has dice.))   
((And thus Keris cements her place in Aiko’s mind as Pretty Music Lady.))   
((Aiko has discovered a use for Keris, finally.))

Aiko’s song is a strange little alien tune, wailing and high-pitched that makes Keris think of snakes and of Malfeas itself. Aiko seems to love it, though, and she laughs at it, clapping her chubby hands together.

Keris hears Sasi approach from behind as she plays, standing behind Keris in the door. Sasi is audibly smiling.

“It’s hers,” she says quietly as she continues to play. “The tune, I mean. It’s what I hear when I listen to her essence.”

Sasi sweeps over, and picks up Aiko with difficulty, the air rippling around her as she brings her mind-hands into play. “She’s put weight recently,” she says to Keris softly. “Her dragon-shape keeps on getting bigger, faster than her human shape does - and she weighs the same no matter her shape is.”

“I did wonder,” Keris says. “She’s brass on the inside, isn’t she? Brass and fire and shadow.” She frowns. “I might be able to make something to help her weigh less,” she offers. “Or maybe spread her weight out over a bigger area; that might be easier. Wait, no, if I can get my hands on some blue jade...”

Aiko makes a loud babbled complaint, and Keris realises that she’s stopped playing in her thought train. Rolling her eyes, she starts up again and gets happy clapping in response. “Well, I’ll think about it, if you want. I’ll probably head back to Malfeas in Crowning Fire to get a headstart on a few things, so I may have some spare time to spend at the Nests.”

Sasi rests her hand on Keris’ shoulder. “If your schedule lines up, we might be able to travel to Malfeas with you,” she says. “When I take Aiko to see her father, we’re going to be going via the City.”

Keris nods. “I’d like that,” she smiles. “Company on the trip. And it’ll be more comfortable for you - I’ll be taking the Baisha back for refuelling and maintenance.”

“I did think of that,” Sasi says smugly.


	10. Chapter 10

The next morning, Keris leaves. By mutual consent, Sasi is still asleep next to her in bed and Keris does not wake her. They said their farewells last night so she did not need to get up before dawn.

“Mama,” Rathan asks chirpily in Keris’ head as she runs away. “Do you _like_ doing what you do with Sasimana? It’s really nice the way she pays attention to you and looks at you like that, but what about the rest?”

“What do you mean, sweetie?” Keris asks, with a spike of alarm. “Dulmea, uh... kept you out of the Tower last night. Didn’t she?”

“Yeah,” he says. “So I want to know what you were doing! The landscape and the sky do funny things when we’re not allowed in the tower!”

“... well,” Keris says, and then trails off as she tries to work out what to say. “Um. We’re doing. Grown-up things.” She pauses. “That, uh. You can’t know about until you’re... taller than me. Because those are the rules.”

Rathan pouts at Keris. His voice sounds utterly innocent and adorable. “But why not? Also, Echo’s nearly as tall as you so you should tell her. Otherwise it’s not fair!”

“It...” Keris stammers, and then realises how to approach this. “Okay, better explanation. There are, uh, some things that grown-ups do with each other when they love each other. And doing them to kids is bad. As bad as slavers. Lots of slavers _do_ do that, even. They’re basically the same.”

Rathan hisses. Keris nods.

“So,” she continues, “all you need to know at the moment is that they’re, um, grown-up things that it’s bad to get little children involved in, and I’ll tell you more when you’re twelve. That’s about when I found out.” Well, technically she’d been vaguely aware for some time before that, but for most of that time the harlots had basically just been ladies who wore lots of makeup and looked like they must be cold. She’d taken a while to work out _why_ they dressed like that. And who for.

She considers. “Well,” she adds, “when you... when you’re as big as... not when you’re _literally_ twelve, because you’re growing up much faster than a normal child, so when you’re, you know, the same as a twelve-year old. In how you think and what you look like and stuff.”

She hears Rathan hum to himself. He really does have a wonderfully lyrical voice. “Well, okay then,” he says proudly. “I’m going to grow up all big and strong and I’ll always be there to keep you safe, mama. From _everything_.”

“I know you will, sweetheart,” she tells him warmly, smiling. “Now, I think - just this once - that maybe Sasi didn’t know _exactly_ what she was talking about, hmm? After all, they really do _owe_ us those ships.”

“I don’t know. They haven’t really done much to us,” Rathan says clinically. “And we’re already taking all their pretty silver. And I... I don’t think I can stop all of them getting angry if they see us taking their ships. I don’t like it when people still don’t like us even when I’m protecting you. It’s icky!”

“Well that’s why we’re going to make sure they don’t _see_ us take the ships,” Keris points out. “But, hmm. Maybe we should just go for one ship. I think we could manage to steal one ship while everyone was busy looking for the silver. The biggest one in the harbour.”

“Ooh! Oooh!” Rathan says happily. “Mama, mama! If you did that and dressed up all Realm-y, and,” he sounds more reluctant, “maybe even got Haneyl to do her plants in their brain thing before, we could just sail straight out with all the crew too like we were just moving things away from the ‘bad people’ attacking the place! And then all the crew would be there and they’d love us!” He pauses. “Oh. But you don’t speak the Realm-y language. You’d need to get a way to trick them so they’d think it was you speaking.”

“Hmm,” says Keris. “That would be tricky, yes.” She wrinkles her nose. “Bah. I don’t want to learn High Realm. Oh! But you could definitely make them think there must be a good reason for me to be using Firetongue, couldn’t you?”

“Maybe you could just steal the captain!” Rathan suggests. “If they wanted to work for you instead, their people would just obey them anyway! And we need our own people for all our ships! We can learn captaining from them!”

“Ooo, _good_ idea,” Keris praises. “And I can do that before I hit the castle! Okay. The Baisha should be another... Haneyl?”

“Another twelve hours, mama!” Haneyl chirps. She’s very proud of her position as Official Timekeeper, granted at least partly due to Rathan feeling too lazy to bother keeping the gold clockwork watch wound and Echo being too prone to making it melt by touching it.

“Twelve hours, then,” Keris says. “That should give us plenty of time to look over the ships in the dock for the biggest ones and infect their captains.”

“No, mama,” Haneyl says warningly. “Mama, if you want them to want to do everything they say, you need to give me more time! It takes _days_ for the plants to grow in! You’ll just have to tell the Baisha to wait!”

Rathan seems about to contradict her, but bites something back. “She’s... not wrong,” he says. “Mama, if you _really_ want the captain to want to do everything you say, you’re going to need to spend a lot of time on them. Like I have to when I get someone to follow me instead!”

“Steal _my_ people,” Haneyl growls.

Rathan pretends to not hear her. “You can’t rush these things, Mama,” he says, almost patronisingly. “You’re making this captain turn against everything they believe.”

Echo bursts in, with a ta-dah gesture. She suggests that Keris should steal his loyalty from the Realm so he’s no longer owned by it! And also fall in luuuuuuuve with them then stop it when she’s bored!

“You’re all terrible people,” Calesco grouses.

“I want the Baisha nearby now,” Keris says. “I can have it wait close by, but it’s better to have it near than far away. And Calesco, you can’t tell me you think the Realm are a _good_ thing for An Teng. Not when they’re stealing most of their silver.”

She purses her lips. “A few days to a week. Yeah, that sounds right,” she agrees. “If it looks like they’re about to move most of the silver out, we strike then ready or not. But until then, we can take it nice and slow as we prepare.”

“And that means you get to stay in the Baisha and it’s _far_ more comfortable,” Haneyl sing-songs.

“Very true,” Keris agrees. “And I can get some work done. Hmm. Actually, if I’m in the Shore Lands for a week anyway, I might see if I can learn that embroidery style. I did promise Lilunu.” There’s general agreement that this is a good idea.

As Keris dream-runs, Dulmea invites her into her tower for a private cup of tea. Her mother is nursing her baby bump. The two of them are looking rather awkward.

“So, child. What are you planning to do with these Realm sailors afterwards?” she asks.

“Calesco won’t like it if I kill them, and Sasi won’t like it if I let them go,” she sighs. “So I guess that means I keep them. If they’re seeded then they can’t easily rebel against me, and I can, hmm. Move them to the Isle of Gulls with the misbegotten?” She grimaces. “I’m planning to leave my ships there for repair, though. I guess I could put demon guards on them to stop the sailors taking them... hmm. Though if I do steal them like Echo suggested... I wonder if that would actually work?”

“I believe it might. If they feel they are owned by the Realm - I believe Echo can steal that feeling from them.” Dulmea smiles cruelly. “Especially if you get them doing things that will leave them unable to ever go home again. Like worshipping the All-Makers and you as an anathema. Do what the Immaculate Order claims you will do and tempt them into following you so they can never go home.”

Keris chuckles. “Yeah. Okay. This is going to work. As long as I don’t get too greedy, but... even a few more big ships will be massive for my fleet. They can patch them up while I’m in Malfeas, and then...”

She stops and frowns.

“... uh. You know, I don’t think I ever actually decided what I was going to _do_ with my fleet,” she realises. “I mean, obviously once I’m fully in control of the Hui Cha I can sort of merge them, but mine can go way further, so... hmm.” She chews a hair tendril thoughtfully. “Remind me to talk to... someone, about that. Maybe Sasi. Or just look up what the Three Flame Society did and copy them.”

“A plan is useful,” Dulmea agrees gravely. “It is good to have one. For once.”

Hidden in the waters of Agenete’s docks, Keris is able to take her time and examine the ships at her leisure. Anything under twenty metres she simply ignores. She’s looking for the _big_ vessels; heavy ones; things like her four-master junk or the Mercy of Hesiesh. The sort of ship that’s chosen to carry Realm tribute across the Inner Sea. Sadly, there’s nothing that big here. This is after all just a Ledaal port, not a place that’s the hand of the Realm itself. The vessels here are mostly two-masters, carrying the finished goods up and down the coast. However, she does hear reports that a 3-master is due to collect a large cargo to be carried back to the Realm in about a week’s time. It’s only going to dock for a few days - but there’s nothing that says she can’t go find it and get started on stealing the crew _before_ it arrives.

She has the presence of mind to send another Infallible Messenger off to Neride before leaving, telling her to dock underwater a little way down the coast. It won’t be difficult for Keris to find it, with her hearing. Then she shoots off through the sea, trusting the currents to guide her to the incoming vessel.

There is a flicker of unease in her heart as she goes. There are no Dragonblooded in Agenete itself; she’s checked. But if House Ledaal were going to send any... this is the ship they would be on.

That would make things... complicated.

The currents guide her as always, but Keris has spent months as a pirate now. She knows about shipping routes; about favourable winds and sailing patterns, even if the Baisha is free to ignore them. She knows which watery tugs to follow and when to trust her heart.

This vessel isn’t as fast as the four-masters and it’s broader and more rounded, but it still makes a good two hundred kilometres a day. Keris finds it nearly 1400 km north, cutting across the cooler waters of the Inner Sea. She doesn’t slide aboard. Not yet. She hugs the hull instead, listening oh-so-sensitively to the heartbeats of everything onboard. Listening for the telltale hum and snap of Terrestrial Essence.

Fortune is on her side. House Ledaal, she vaguely remembers, has more Air Aspects among its ranks - maybe they’re not born sailors despite the... you know, wind thing. The captain is a man in his early middle years, with a brusque manner. His hair looks windblown and there’s a hint of frost in it, but he’s not a Terrestrial - though he clearly has strong Terrestrial blood. Just like Sasi makes Keris think of a marble statue, he remind makes Keris think he’s walking through a snowstorm or something.

... he’s quite attractive despite his age, honestly. He’s got a scar down the right side of his face which barely missed his ear, but it just makes him look more dignified. She takes a moment to admire it as she sneaks aboard the ship, comparing it to her own. They’re miles out at sea, of course, so there’s never a point where everyone on the ship is asleep. But man is mortal - these men and women are, at least - and there are hammocks below decks where the sailors who are off-shift lie dead to the world and get some rest. It’s not hard for her to wait concealed through three shift changes and sneak into the few cabins that the officers and captain use when they retire.

Like a ghost, Keris stalks through the ship. There are sailors working through the night and the night watch, but that just means they’re standing alone for her to pick up. Her hair crawling over the walls, she worms tendrils up to the backs of men and women and slides tiny grey slivers under their skin. They don’t notice anything.

And then she’s down into the darker bits of the ship, above the hold of cargo intended for An Teng. This ship isn’t sailing empty, oh no - it’s laden with Realm pottery and ceramics and woodworking and printed books and all these things that are probably going to be sold to Tengese nobles. Keris sniffs at the fact that the Realm is selling them things made of clay and wood, and getting silver back. House Ledaal must be doing nicely from this trade.

And so the crew sleep in their bunks and their hammocks, and they never notice the creeping monster, its tendrils reaching out to jab into them. One group of sailors are playing a tile game late at night by the light of a single lantern, and Keris gets all of them. She even infects the ships’ cats. She gets the sailors and she gets the marines who protect it from pirates.

Then she’s off into the officers’ cabins. They’re much nicer, but even the captain’s rooms are cramped here. This is a trading ship, and as much room as possible has been devoted to the hold. She spreads her infection to all of them, whether they’re sleeping, reading in bed or entertaining themselves in other ways.

The captain is the last one, and he’s fast asleep. Reaching over him, Keris smiles to herself with far too many mouths, and does what she came here to do.

“You should make Calesco send him a dream that’ll make him love you and want to do everything you say,” Rathan gloats. “Make her do it!”

((... Keris is really _fun_ when she’s being a many-mouthed horror monster.))

“I have a more important message for Calesco to send,” Keris replies, shaking her head. She can feel Calesco’s surprise at this, as it’s the first time she’s mentioned it. But Keris knows what she’s doing.

“It’s been more than a month,” she says. “If the Isle of Gulls isn’t finished by now, it will be soon. And I’ll be going there anyway after I hit Agenete, so I can push through anything that isn’t finished. Calesco?”

“... Mother?”

“You remember how to find Darling Yellow? Take another dream to her. Tell her Riyaah MuHiitiyah has created a place for her people - a safe place, outside An Teng, where they won’t be spat upon or abused and where food is abundant. Tell her she can start preparing to move her clan - by the year’s end.” She smiles. “I think she’ll go for it. It’ll mean leaving An Teng, but she can take her culture with her. And they’ll be safe, and self-sufficient.”

“Yes, mother,” Calesco says, with a cruel, gloating glance directed at Rathan. “I’ll make sure she knows how much you want her to be safe because you _care_ about her.”

“I do. And once I’ve given them such a nice place to live, I’m sure they’ll happily start praying to me more in thanks,” Keris says calmly, forestalling Rathan’s angry retort. “So everybody wins. Now,” she claps her hands. “Time to get back to Agenete and meet the Baisha.”

“But you should be making the captain adore _you_ , mama,” Rathan says, lip wobbling adorably as he deploys his big sea-blue eyes - so like Rat’s. “Not relying on Haneyl’s silly infection. He’s got to love you more than anything so he’ll betray his Realm all for _you_.”

“Stop being such a baby,” Haneyl grouses.

“I’m older than you!”

“You don’t act it!”

Keris listens long enough to be fairly sure it’s not a serious fight, and leaves them to it. The ship will end up loving her sincerely, and she can have Rathan help her steal it. That should be sufficient. The question that faces her now is how to go about the theft.

Honestly, with the ship infected, she might be able to get away with not attacking the town at all. She could just tell the captain to change course once the silver was loaded up, and have that be that. But in order to really _cripple_ the Ledaal interests, she wants to fire the docks. The loss of the boats that ferry precious metals down from the High Lands on top of an entire silver tribute will be more crippling than either on their own.

And the Baisha has her explosives onboard.

Oh, this is going to be fun.

The Baisha is anchored underwater, down under a mass of sargasso. Keris descends into the depths, swims through the airlock, and immediately heads to her private quarters to have a bath and orders food from her private chef.

“Your excellency,” says the Priest, entering her bathroom without as much as knocking. Its blue-burning gaze falls upon her. It cascades silver sand from its robes down onto her bathroom floor. “You have returned. What have you been doing?”

She frowns at it. “My job,” she says shortly. “Striking at the Dynasts who profit from An Teng. I have a stroke planned that will cripple the silver trade that House Ledaal depends on, which I will explain to my officers _after I have bathed and eaten_.”

“As you wish,” it says, sweeping out.

... Keris just can’t read that thing. It’s terse and perfunctory all the time, so she’s not sure if it was annoyed with her or just acting normally. Once she’s finished with her ablutions, she makes a few quick sketches of the town and calls a meeting. Though it’s mostly just her, Neride and the Priest, since the Baisha is largely a failsafe for the plan.

“This is Agenete,” she explains, tapping the sketch of the town. “It’s a silver town on the coast that’s owned by House Ledaal, funnelling silver from the High Lands into the pockets of the Realm. With the loss of the Three Flame Society and civil war hanging over the Realm’s head, they’re vulnerable - every ship matters, and the wealth they get from their satrapies is important.

“Which is why we’re going to steal it.” She taps the castle. “They bring silver down from the mountains and store it here in preparation for trips back to the Realm. I _could_ breach the defenses - fairly easily, if I wanted to - but there’s no need this time. A convoy is already on its way to ferry it back - it will be in Agenete for three days, loading the silver and preparing for an ocean voyage.”

Keris’s smile is a gleeful thing of too many teeth. “This convoy is already mine. I’ve just come from tracking it down and infecting the crew and captain with flesh-seeds that will turn them to my service. When it leaves Agenete on the third day, it will be bound for the Isle of Gulls - with the Baisha following in case any would-be heroes manage to shake off my control.

“Meanwhile, I will be destroying the docks with algarel and blade under the guise of a Fire Aspect. With the silver shipment lost along with all of their ships - and their docks in the bargain - the Dynasts will be out of pocket and crippled in the region for a long time to come, chasing a Fire Aspect who doesn’t exist to get their missing silver back.”

“Adequate,” the Priest says. It settles down, having said what it considers to be necessary.

“Will you be needing the assistance of the ship’s marines?” asks her captain.

“Doubtful, but I want them ready just in case,” Keris replies. “There are no Dragonblooded in the town, which would have been my main worry, but I don’t want to find out the hard way that there’s a Wyld Hunt or wandering monk or something in the region. I’d prefer to make it look like a single Outcaste Dragonblood, but it’s not like it would be unusual for a Terrestrial thief to come with demonic backup, so I want them there in a few minutes if I call for aid. No messing around if a real Dragonblood shows up; we just mob and kill them as fast as possible.”

“Yes, my lady. I shall have them prepared.”

With that done, all that’s left to do is wait for the Realm ship to arrive. Keris gives it about a week before it arrives; ten days or so before her plan goes into effect on the day it leaves. Wanting to put the time to good use, she slips out of the ship to search for someone teaching embroidery.

As a town that basically exists for House Ledaal to extract elements of Tengese culture and turn them into profitable goods, there are certainly looms and weavers here, making their products for consumers back in the Realm. The trick here will be to find someone who actually knows what they’re doing, rather than making them for Realm sorts who don’t know the difference. Keris has an easier time of it than some might, because Keris can hear embroidery. Not just the process, but the finished product; even when it’s worn unseen as is traditional. Traditional is in fact what she’s looking for, and she’s heard proper Tengese embroidery in the clothes of the High and Middle Lands. She keeps her ears sharp and gets close enough to subtly taste the clothes of a few likely suspects, just to make sure. She doesn’t just want someone who knows the proper style - she wants one of the _best_.

((Persuasion + Occult to find someone who actually knows about the weaving she’s looking for at a proper mastery level. Not a trivial roll.))   
((Uh, she’s got a week - right now she’s only looking to learn the first dot.))   
((... _can_ she learn more than one dot a week, since she Favours Occult?))   
((Well, I mean, she favours it, so I guess Styles take as long as Skills?))   
((So yeah, she may be able to learn _frighteningly fast_. Okay then; 3+4+2 stunt+7 Kimmy ExD {impossibly high standards, secrets, charm, great artist}=16. 9 sux.))   
((She can, if she wants, find a master tutor in this town.))   
((She does want. She wants a great deal.))   
((Hell, she probably has to find several masters to absorb the knowledge from given that the people here are often from all over An Teng.))   
((You can resolve this all with a stunt. Keris has Rathan’s Charms - she’s really good at coaxing people into things. Plus, Price-of-Everything Undercurrents for bribing masters into helping her))

Keris is the kind of student that masters dream of having. She knows, because they tell her. Well, they tell each other. In excited whispers. Behind closed doors, and a wall or two. But that’s basically the same as telling her.

Her charm and a disguise as a woman who looks half-Tengese, half-Dynastic gets her through the door once she finds a master. Her newfound sense of what people value gets her lessons. And her natural artistry gets her success - at first impressive, and then jaw-dropping, and then...

... and then some of the masters start to wonder whether they were _good_ dreams, exactly. Because a student like this is... is almost a little scary. Keris is shuttled from one old woman to another, absorbing arts that took them years to master in days. Oh, she doesn’t have the _experience_ yet - she’s not using the bubbling force of magic, and so their best work still outstrips her own. But it’s clear even by the end of the first day that she’s a savant. By the end of the week, she’s well on her way to mastery.

By the end of the year, she’ll have surpassed them all. In fact, she’s absorbed everything that these sad lonely old women and alcoholic old men, hired by Ledaal for work that’s below them, before Netara’s Mercy - the three-master - arrives. It gives her time to go back and work on the captain and the other officers, if she’s so inclined, or further her mission in other ways.

She assesses the town again, this time with an eye to organisation. The blow she’s going to strike against House Ledaal will be brutal, but there’s a chance they’ll be able to pull through - to claw out the next shipment of silver and make just enough to start rebuilding.

But that will be dependent on people who know what they’re doing. On organisers who know their jobs inside and out, who’ve done them for years of peacetime and who can handle them when things go wrong. Remove those people, and suddenly Agenete is headless when it most needs its experts.

And Keris is _good_ at finding points of failure in a system. She can afford to arrange for a few specific deaths or disappearances in the chaos of her attack.

((Cog + Bureaucracy or Politics to pick out her targets for MURDER.))   
((Heh heh heh heh~ 3+1+3 Social Saboteur+2 stunt=9. 3 sux. Argh!))   
((And once again, Keris must question why she forgets she has excellencies. :V))   
((I thought I wouldn’t need them for that roll! Bluh. :c Fine, I will FORGE AHEAD regardless.))

She has a few names of critical people to kill. Like the Ledaal woman who runs this place. She might be able to pillage the castle while she’s at it.

It is a swelteringly hot afternoon when the Netara’s Mercy glides in on the high tide. It immediately is guided into port, and its cargo starts being unloaded. The crew depart the vessel to do what sailors do, while the officers prepare for dinner at the castle. The lady in charge here clearly knows how important it is that she brings the trade to the Realm.

Keris circles and waits. She’s not sure where the officers are going to be sleeping, but she wants access to at least the captain overnight, to reinforce her seed and make sure it’s growing good and strong. The captain - Ledaal Jironi will be staying at the castle. From his muttered complaints about his aching back, he seems quite glad to be out of his cabin.

A servant’s guise to get around the castle unnoticed, then, Keris decides. She can slip in unnoticed - possibly with the token of another servant, if she really needs one. The arrival of the ship will have broken their routine, so once she’s inside, as long as she looks appropriately subservient and stays away from the silver warehouse, she’ll have free run of the place.

It’s easy enough for Keris to slip over the wall. Walking around the castle at night, dressed like a servant, Keris notices things that she didn’t necessarily notice before.

Like the fact that House Ledaal _built their fucking trading town in a river delta lousy with mosquitos_. Urgh. _Dragons_. Keris can feel them trying to bite her. It’s really annoying because the stupid things can’t bite through her skin, but their fucking whine is fucking everywhere.

Oh, but she got in fine. Once she’s over the wall, she wraps herself in her face false and her false clothes and she blends right in. In her places, she decides, she’s going to ban mosquitos. Maybe make a demon specifically to hunt the annoying little things. A quiet one.

Ah well. At least there are fewer of them inside the buildings. Inserting herself into the servants who are waiting on the dinner, Keris manages to get close enough to check on the seeds in her prey, both through hearing and through subtle brushes that give her taste.

She has plenty of chances to check up on him as she oozes her way into being a server for the dinner with the lady of this place. A casual brush lets her taste his sweat and she can hear the vines twining around his spine and growing into his brain. He doesn’t know it yet, but he has a hidden drive to serve her in particular.

Although, hmm, other loyalties might get in the way first. After all, he doesn’t even know who she is. If she wants him to abandon his duty, the infestation might not be enough. She needs to solidify her hold on him - and from what’s said at the dinner, he’ll be here for just over a week as they unload their cargo, load on more supplies and load up their silver.

She sighs, and slips away to a quiet, secluded spot in the castle where she can sit and meditate.

And talk to Calesco.

Her daughter is sitting in a gaggle of her keruby when Keris steps into her Domain; on the banks of a grassy hill amidst the tar pits. The grass is dark - for a moment she almost thinks it’s black, but then a faint glimmer of light hits it just right and she sees that it’s deep, _deep_ green. Like the black tar has darkened its natural colour, but left it shiny and reflective.

Keris looks around at the grass plains and rolling hills; tar pits are dotted across them like open wounds in the dim and distant light, and wonders what they’d look like under the sun.

“How was Darling Yellow?” she asks. “Well?”

Calesco sighs at Keris. “She is alive,” her daughter says wearily. “I gave her a nice dream. She’s old and she knows she’s going to die soon, so her goddess - she worships you, you know - granting her a vision of a promised land is just what she wanted.” From her her veils, Calesco’s eyes narrow. “Don’t let her down,” she demands.

Keris nods. “I won’t,” she promises. “If I could summon you, I might let you out to help, but that’ll have to wait until I learn more Sorcery.” She obediently looks at the bowl of honey that a tar-cherub boy shows her. Whatever he sees in it is beyond Keris’s ability to pick out, but he seems enraptured.

“... I need your help with the captain,” she says eventually. There’s not really much point in trying for tact with Calesco. She’ll see through it. “I’m using him, yes, but this way I don’t have to _kill_ him, and he stays a captain and helps rescue the misbegotten and winds up living happily on the Isle.” She glances at Calesco, assessing. Her daughter pushes her, but she’s no great fan of what the Realm does. “I just need him to know who his loyalties are to,” she adds. “So that I can guide him.”

“And?” Calesco doesn’t sound like she’s trying to be cooperative.

“And that means I need you to carry a few dreams to him. A spirit speaking of a promised land, something to spark his interest...” Keris frowns, considering what she’s tasted of the captain, prodding at the sense that tells her what his loyalty might be worth to him.

Calesco sniffs. “He’s a cold, pragmatic man who likes money but also cares about his honour and his self-image,” she says dryly. “You’ve gone and filled his brain with Haneyl juice so he secretly longs to serve your every whim, but that doesn’t make him not the sort of Realm person who views spirits with scorn. And you’re going to have to break his loyalty to his House, or he won’t abandon his duty.” She leans in towards Keris, smile not very pleasant. “Split him away from his family,” she says, words like a dagger.

Keris flinches.

“That’s not...” she says, and stops dead. The keruby, apparently sensing that the conversation is taking a more aggressive tone, scurry off.

“That...” she tries again, and stops. “He- the ship...”

((Bluh. Hmm. Yeah, okay. Argh, calesco, y u giv me teh hard roleplay things.))   
((Calesco: “It’s literally my job. I hurt you because I love you.”))   
((Okay but seriously, that was a _nuke_ she just dropped on Keris’s lap. I’m genuinely not sure how I can justify Keris going through with stealing him, given that. Keris is weak against “you’re _destroying families_ ” attacks. They are super-effective.))   
((Well, yes, she’s been trying to sabotage this plan all along. She’s fighting dirty, especially since she knows it’s Rathan’s idea and she’s doing it to spite him too.))

It’s just Keris and Calesco sitting here on this ruined plain. Her keruby have fled, and Calesco under the veil has a coldly smug expression that brings sharply to light that her and Haneyl are sisters. And since Keris is the bit they have in common - is that gloating expression Keris’ own?

Something twists in her heart and turns to anger. “I _need_ the ship,” she snaps. “You can’t argue with that - every new ship in my fleet is one I can use for trade; for replacing the Three Flame Society. As long as I’m in charge there won’t be any slaves carried, and I can muscle out anyone who tries.”

She stands, her hair lashing in frustration. “ _And_ I need a ship to carry the misbegotten. In case you haven’t noticed, the keruby haven’t been kind to the ones in here; they all need repair. I’m _trying_ to find a way I can do this without just killing him, Calesco! Better he be alive than dead!”

Calesco leans in. She might be the youngest of Keris’ souls, but she doesn’t look it - and she certainly isn’t acting it right now. “You’re lying to yourself about what Rathan wants you to do. He wants you to do the Echo thing and cut away everything that could be said to ‘own’ the captain just so there’ll be nothing in his heart but you. Is that what you really want to do? Cut away family, cut away friends, cut away any wife he has - so the only thing he has to cling on to in the world is the,” her voice takes on a mocking note, “pure love and adoring need to serve you that you crammed into his brain?”

She leans in again, brushing Keris’ cheek with her velvety, semi-liquid hair. “Don’t let me stop you, though. After all, it’s Rathan’s plan. And you’re always the victim. It’s not like _you_ do anything wrong. You’ve got him to make people believe it’s _not your fault_.”

Keris makes a strangled noise of frustration and whirls away, taking a bite out of a clump of grass with a lashing hair lock as she paces. Gritting her teeth, she forces herself back down into seiza.

“Fine. Look at it this way. Option one, I kill him,” she says, thinking out loud. “Option two, I steal him from his family. Option three...” She closes her eyes, thinking. “I could... hmm. Huh. Option three...”

Her eyes open slowly. “He wants to serve me,” she muses. “He won’t do anything that goes against his House, but... I wonder if I could... hmm. Getting it past the Priest would be tricky. And Haneyl wouldn’t like it at _all_ , which...” she sighs. “Means Rathan might not object as much. And, I mean, the misbegotten could... hmm.”

She drums her fingers over a knee for a moment, then looks up at Calesco sharply. “Okay. Try this idea.”

“Let’s say... let’s say that a Dragonblooded attacks the town. Makes a shot at the castle but gets turned away, and the silver isn’t there anyway. Sets fire to the docks and wrecks the ships, but by then people will be fleeing - and our captain manages to get _his_ ship, fully loaded with the silver, out to sea. Right?”

Calesco watches Keris through her veils, red eyes unmoving. Keris runs a hand through her hair.

“So then he finds... let’s say a fishing boat or something. Damaged. In distress. Someone in it calls out for help - he feels like he wants to help them out. They ask for him just to get their ship back to shore - not far out of his way. He and his crew all pass out mysteriously; wake up the next morning on the shore, the ship is gone.”

She drums her fingers again. “And if I removed the seeds afterwards - which Haneyl _really_ wouldn’t like - the Realm would never work it out. There’d be no sign magic was involved.”

“So you’ve decided you’re not someone who wants to split someone from their family?” Calesco asks softly. “Or are you just running away from the problem and trying to come up with a ‘clever solution’ which means you don’t have to face it? Because both Haneyl and Rathan will explode over that. They’re already planning something together with what they can do with human sailors who actually know how to sail.”

Keris groans. Rathan and Haneyl planning together. Just what she needs. “There’s the misbegotten,” she points out, but without much hope. The misbegotten aren’t trained Realm sailors, and they’d have them anyway. “Urgh. Fighting raksha is easier than this. Less complicated. I want... I want to find something we can all be happy with, not choose which of my children to upset. I _don’t_ want to split people from their family, but...”

((...))   
((... _holy fucking shit_.))   
((!!!))   
((... so, uh. In desperation at my inability to OOC find a way around this problem, I rolled Keris’s Compassion 4 to see if that would give me any ideas on which way to tip the balance. And, ES.))   
((ES, I got _six successes_ on _four dice_.))   
((Lawl.))   
((Okay, hang on a moment, I just have to absorb how ridiculous that roll was. I THINK WE HAVE DECIDED WHAT KERIS IS GOING TO CHOOSE, TO PUT IT MILDLY.))

But, she thinks. But. She can still hear the keruby a little way away, along with the voice of... of one of her szulok; looking after them.

“... I don’t want to split people from their families,” she repeats. And maybe it’s something in the weight of her words; in the finality of them, but Calesco seems to catch her drift.

Calesco sidles over, and gives her a hug. “There, there,” she says gently. “See how much better being good makes you feel. This way you’ll be able to look at yourself in the mirror, yes?”

Keris hugs her back. “Yes,” she sighs, feeling the tension lift briefly from her shoulders. It’s rare that Calesco initiates contact, and she sniffs a little at what it means that she’s doing so now.

“I love you just as much, you know,” she says. “I know we argue a lot, and you... challenge me. But I love you just as much as them.” She squeezes Calesco gently. “I still don’t want you all fighting for the next few months, though. Do you think you can help me find ways to get them over it?”

“No,” Calesco says bluntly. “They’re going to be furious with you. Also, with me. They’re probably going to declare war on me, working together. Lots of my people are going to die because of this.”

Keris winces. “I’ll... try to keep them focused on me,” she sighs. “Talk to Echo and Dulmea; they might help.” She squeezes Calesco again. “And thank you,” she says sincerely. “For... for helping me.”

Calesco snuggles up to Keris, her little arms and hair-wrapped around her. “I like moments like this where I have you without the others getting in the way,” she whispers. “Close your eyes, mama. And don’t peek. I love you, but this is going to hurt a lot.”

The memory of the last few times is enough to have Keris slamming her eyes shut. There’s... less she can do about her hearing, but she tries not to focus too hard on it. There’s a rustle of cloth, as Calesco raises her veil. The pain is like white-hot needles - and it’s even more like Adorjan, Keris remembers. It’s stabbing her in the heart with visions of every death she’s caused and every time she’s hardened her heart and ignored the suffering of others. She tries to resist it, tries to bear it, but the pain draws a keening cry from her lips.

She can’t help it. As the soft lips touch her brow, right on her caste mark, her eyelids flutter open. For the first time she sees her daughter’s face, stripped of her lies and shadows.

Calesco looks a lot like Echo’s human form. Her face is rounder and her nose is a little button, but she’s so obviously Echo’s sister there’s no denying it. Her skin is very pale, almost bloodless - but her large eyes are an arterial red. There’s a black circle on her brow, that looks like a tattoo of a snake biting its own tail. White snow hair hangs down in front of her face, tied back with ribbons that look like they were given as presents by Echo. And there are white feathers in among her hair; pinions growing from her scalp and downy plumage tracing her cheekbones and jawline.

There are more details Keris wants to see, but the pain is too intense and her eyes fill with tears. Calesco gasps, and almost violently yanks her veil back down. Through the tears, Keris can only now see dark skin and dark hair - though the eyes are the same.

Turning her back, Calesco bursts into deep shaking sobs, hugging herself tightly.

Keris gasps at the pain - she usually heals fast enough that pain leaves quickly, and this is worse than... well, it’s certainly worse than Sasi skimming her memories, which is the closest comparison she can think of.

“So...” she chokes. “Sorry. I didn’t...” She sways dizzily as the feeling of knives stabbing into her eyes and heart starts to fade, and goes to hug her daughter. “Calesco? Don’t... why are you crying? Because I looked at all, or because... you don’t like what I saw?”

“You shouldn’t have looked,” Calesco keens - and it is a keen, an almost bird-like cry. In her distress, she seems to be dropping into Echoese, her motions so explanatory and so expressive that Keris can read them clearly. The utter misery of her posture makes clear that _no one_ should ever see her - or even want to see her - and that she’s an ugly monster who just hurts anyone who looks at her.

Keris hugs her almost before she’s finished speaking. “You’re not,” she says fiercely. “I’m glad I got to see what you look like under your veils. It’s not your fault you hurt people, it’s... it’s theirs, if anything. The hurt came from the memories of when I was cruel. You just remind people that they should be kind, and I’m sorry, Calesco, I am so sorry you have to see the world like that. But it’s _not your fault_.”

She blinks, realising something that Calesco may not know. “You know...” she says. “Last year, when Calibration came around... Echo turned human. She wasn’t wind and ribbons, or silent. She could touch things and talk. I think it’s possible - maybe even likely - that the same will happen to you in a few months.”

“Even if that’s true, that’s j-j-just five days a year,” Calesco sobs. “I... I didn’t want you to know how I have to live. I _need_ my veils.”

“Oh, Calesco.” There’s nothing Keris can say to that. All she can do is curl around her daughter, hold her tight and let her cry. Her sobs seem to attract the tar-keruby back, because several dark little faces poke up over the ridge of the hill; their felid ape caretaker in tow.

“Did you make her cry?” one of the little featureless things ask of Keris. Honestly, that’s almost a “demands”. It’s possible that it may not actually know who she is.

“Not exactly,” Keris replies, with a glance down at the black-clad figure clinging to her. Calesco seems to be in no condition to answer. “She’s sad at... how the world is, I suppose. And what she sees when she looks at it.” She rubs Calesco’s back gently, wrapping her up in hair and limbs.

“Oh,” the tar-cherub says, face creasing up in what is probably a frown. “Well, that’s what happens if she spends too much time alone. She’s cheerful when she’s around us!”

Keris smiles. “She is? That’s good to hear. I’m afraid she’s usually sad or angry when I see her.” She cocks her head. “What’s your name, little one?”

“I’m Vela,” it says. “Who are _you?_ ”

“My name is Keris,” replies Keris. “I’m Calesco’s mother.”

((I’m actually kind of interested to see how much Calesco’s keruby know about Keris, and how they think of her.))

“Oh.” It’s silent for a while. “Well, you know Calesco says everyone is equal here so no one is allowed to tell anyone what to do. That means you’re not allowed to tell her what to do.”

And that’s enough to tip Keris into actual laughter; albeit laughter that borders a bit on the choked. Of _course_ Calesco would teach her keruby to see Keris as just another person. She drops a fond kiss on Calesco’s head and grins ruefully.

“To tell you the truth, Calesco is usually telling me what to do,” she confides. “Or at least what she thinks I should do, and why she thinks some things I’m doing are wrong. Do you think she’s good at that? Knowing what’s right and what’s wrong?”

“I don’t know,” it says, after some thought. “She says being too sure is dangerous. It makes you someone like Princess Haneyl or Prince Rathan, and they’re bad. But you have to believe in something or you’re like Princess Echo and she’s bad because she kills things because she doesn’t care enough to not do it.”

It occurs to Keris that if Haneyl and Rathan do declare war, this little tar-kerub might be one of the ones who get hurt. She bites her lip, and resolves to do something about that. Maybe help Calesco create more demons - defenders; protectors who can guard her lands.

“She’s a smart person,” she agrees, feeling very tired all of a sudden. “Even though the world might be easier if we could be sure of more things.”

“I’m certain that I’m going to have my Happening!” Vela says, iron-hard determination in their - maybe her? - voice.  Keris nods quietly, and hopes that her certainty doesn’t lead her into trouble - or pain.


	11. Chapter 11

Keris stays for a quiet little tea party with Calesco and her tar-cherubs, which - well, Keris doesn’t want to say it, but she’s had much better tea parties hosted by her souls. Apparently Calesco hasn’t yet invented a demon that’s good at preparing food, and she certainly isn’t any good herself.

Still Keris smiles and drinks her watery and bitter tea. She’s made her mind up. She’s not going to steal the sailors, even though she knows how useful they’d be. Now she just has to... um, enact what she’s made her mind up about.

Dulmea, she decides. If she’s going to break the news to her other children, she wants more than just Calesco on her side. Dulmea might be enough to tip the balance, she thinks hopefully. She swiftly makes her way to Dulmea’s ‘war room’; the room in her tower where she keeps the maps, the notes on various figures, and which is watched over by angyals whose job it is to raise the alarm if any of the children try to get in.

Dulmea is brooding over papers when Keris arrives, idly flicking through them with locks of hair and a slightly vacant expression on her face.

“I spoke to Calesco,” Keris leads with. “Where are Haneyl and Rathan? I, uh...” She bites her lip as she trails off.

“They are playing together nicely,” Dulmea says, blinking back to attention. “They’ve taken over a few buildings close to where their lands meet, within the city, and they’re planning out the upcoming operation with their friends.” She smiles indulgently. “Haneyl’s little scribes are making copious notes on everything and filing them with me.”

Keris groans quietly, and makes a last quiet prayer that Dulmea supports her. Though who she’s praying to she has no idea. “I’m... reconsidering,” she admits. “Not taking the ship, but the crews...”

She sighs. “Calesco made some good points about splitting up families. And it occurred to me that I’m not so sure dumping them on an island with the misbegotten is a good idea just before I leave for Calibration - and the last part of Fire besides; maybe longer. I’m not sure I’d have enough time to work on them.”

Admittedly it had only occurred to her after she’d made her decision, but it _had_ occurred to her. She assesses Dulmea’s expression and plays her ace card. “Having some infected within the Realm fleets might prove useful someday, too.”

((Per + Pres))   
((3+5+3 Mendaciloquent Maverick+1 bonus {grain of truth - Keris has valid reasoning, she’s just slightly downplaying how much it was a purely emotional decision}+2 stunt=14. 12 sux, whoa. Looks like Dulmea will support me.))

Dulmea purses her lips. Her iridescent hair rummages around, searching for documentation. Peering at the papers, Keris notices that she’s looking for the ones she’s built up on details of the Realm fleet. “Certainly workable,” she says, eventually. “If we are to do as Lady Sasimana suggests and take the place of the Three Flames Society, I do believe we will need plenty of intelligence on the affairs of the Realm’s pirate-chasers. Do you honestly believe this will be more useful than acquiring your own sailors?”

“I _am_ acquiring my own sailors,” Keris points out. “The Hui Cha are coming around - I have two of the Blue Sea Masters in hand. I think that if I’m going to be using them much, it’s safer to go with followers who won’t get recognised as Realm sailors gone rogue if they’re seen. I hear their Navy gets upset about that sort of thing.”

“Mmm,” Dulmea says. It sounds hopeful for Keris, she thinks. “I am not entirely convinced that this is the best option - but I certainly concede that there are advantages to this route.” She pauses. “Certainly, your task from the Unquestionable would be better with more intelligence on Realm shipping routes. But you are certainly losing things too with such lack of involvement.”

“Haneyl and Rathan aren’t going to take it well, I know,” Keris agrees. “At all.” She sighs. Maybe she should just have gone with the same tactics she’d used before setting up shop in Saata, she thinks. But... tch, she got all ambitious and planned things out before thinking them through properly, and now she’s stuck salvaging what she can from the resultant mess.

Gritting her teeth, she tries to take it as another lesson. Getting frustrated and smashing things won’t help, even if it makes her feel better. It certainly won’t get rid of the conversation with her children that she needs to have.

Oh, she is really not looking forward to this.

Dulmea strokes Keris’ cheek with her hair. “You feel split by this and are not certain yourself,” she says. “Rathan and Haneyl would not be so enthusiastic if you did not want to steal the men at some level.”

“I know,” groans Keris, accepting a hug and melting into her mother. “I did. I _do_. But... stealing people away from their families isn’t a line I want to cross. Infecting the Hui Cha is one thing; I’m not taking them away anywhere, but... it’s too much like what happened to me. There are upsides to both ways, so... I want to take the one that doesn’t make me like Kasseni.”

“I do not see how that makes you so much like her,” Dulmea says chidingly.

Keris looks away. “Well I do,” she mutters. “I’m decided, all that’s left is to... tell Haneyl and Rathan. Can you try to stop them destroying too much of the Domain in their anger? They might try to take it out on Calesco.”

“Child,” Dulmea says, “remember that my true power ends at the edges of the border you drew in the Domain. I cannot _stop_ them if they keep out of my lands. I can keep them from doing any damage to the City, but as for the rest? Haneyl and Calesco border each other.”

Conceding that point with a tilt of her head, Keris shrugs. “Well... try to talk them down if you can. I’ll see if I can keep them mostly focused at me.” She grimaces. “Here goes nothing, I suppose.”

“I shall await the explosions and start shepherding the citizens away from the Swamp,” Dulmea says wearily. Keris really wishes that she couldn’t take that literally. Wincing preemptively, she makes her way to the Marsh-Sea side of the City, looking for her wayward children.

She hears them immediately. Between the two of them, Haneyl and Rathan have set up a little... it’s almost like an open-air fair. There’s plants and ice growing over the buildings and hordes of wave and tide cherubs, with the fancier dress that indicates that they’re close to her children - as well as other demons, like several farisyya.

The sights causes another pang of guilt. Her children are so _happy_ about this - and getting along, which is a rarity for these two. And now Keris has to spoil it by telling them they’re not going to be getting what they want.

She’s not quite guilty enough to go ahead with her original plan, mind. But she still wishes she’d put more thought into this scheme.

“Haneyl, Rathan?” she calls, approaching them as keruby move aside to let her past. “Do you mind me stealing you away for a moment?”

She definitely doesn’t want to have this conversation here.

“Is it something important, mama?” Haneyl asks brightly.

With an inward sigh and a faint grunt, Keris picks her up and seats her on one hip with an arm and two hair-tendrils. Before Rathan can clamour for equal attention, she lifts him up onto her other side, which at least rebalances her even if they’re getting heavier.

“It is, yes,” she says. “Shall we?”

Rathan is just taking the chance to get some hugs in. He looks like he’s sleepy, actually. He’s been running around trying to keep up with Haneyl and he wants a nap. “‘ss,” he says, hugging on.

Thinking tactically, Keris keeps going out along the border instead of heading for the Marsh. There’s an island a little way off the coast - one of the ones Haneyl and Rathan have fought over several times that she knows of, and which they currently seem to be sharing. She sets them down there and tries to work out how to start.

“About the Realm sailors,” she says, deciding to rip this particular arrow out as quickly as possible. “I’ve had second thoughts about how useful they’ll be. If we steal them now and take them back to the Isle of Gulls, we won’t be able to _use_ them - word will get back to the Realm about deserters, and they’ll send the Navy after us. If we let them go, though, we’ll have people loyal to us who are still part of the Realm fleets - and they can tell us about where merchant ships are going, so we can steal more.”

She eyes Haneyl, whose eyes are widening and whose posture is getting a lot more upright and upset as she processes this. “I know you were very excited about getting them,” she adds, “and I’m impressed at how hard you worked at-”

That’s about as far as she manages to get before being cut off.

((Per+Pres to see how much she’s mitigated the explosion - though Haneyl’s Urge means she’s not going to like this much no matter what.   
3+5+3 MM Style+1 bonus+2 stunt+8 Kimmy ExD {elegant practicality, delayed or ongoing harm}=22. 12 sux.))

Haneyl is literally smouldering. The flowers in her hair are looking a lot less like flowers and a lot more like little bright flames and her eyes are glowing green. Keris can feel the heat wafting off her. In fact, her pale skin is charring and her crown and robes are starting to glow with red-hot heat.

“You lied,” she declares shrilly, voice underlaid with the crackle of a forest fire. “You _lied_ and you said you were going to take them and I _want them_.”

“Haneyl...” Keris pleads, hastily shifting a suddenly much more awake-looking Rathan away from the walking bonfire.

“They were going to be _mine_ and I was going to use them so we could actually _use_ the ships you keep on stealing except now they’re _useless_ because you’re _weak_ and can’t keep to your _promises_ because you _lied_.” The heat is growing more intense. Now it’s not just her eyes glowing. Now Keris can see the flames licking inside her daughter’s mouth, like her stomach is a furnace. Surprisingly, her teeth are still human, even as they reflect the firelight glow.

“You. _Lied_ ,” she says, voice almost unintelligible under the crackle of the fire within.

Keris backs up, paling. Her daughter is... she’s not sure _what_ is happening to her daughter. Are her flames consuming her? A sick bolt of fear runs through Keris - is her daughter so upset she’s hurting herself in her rage? Is she in danger? She shifts to put herself between Haneyl and Rathan and lunges forward.

“I’m sorry!” she yells, catching Haneyl’s hand. Her flesh immediately starts to blister, which she ignores. “Haneyl, sweetheart, I’m so sorry, but you’re scaring me! You’re burning up! Please don’t... please tell me you’re alright!” She glances back to check on Rathan - both how he’s taking the news, and on his reaction to the bonfire that Haneyl is becoming.

“I’m not alright because you’re a liar and a thief and you stole them and they _were going to be mine!_ ” Haneyl screams at her, violently wrenching away. “Mine! They’re mine and you lied and I _hate you!_ ” Scrabbling, she tries to get away from Keris, apparently entirely willing to storm into the shallow water and wade all the way back to the nearby mainland.

Rathan, hiding behind Keris, seems more split. He’s clearly scared of Haneyl, but before that he wasn’t happy - it’s just at the moment he’s more scared of his bonfire-hot sister than angry at the fact that he isn’t getting his sailors and that Keris has just said they’re not doing the plan that he made along with him, together.

Weeping silently, Keris lets Haneyl go - trying to restrain her would only make her angrier. She rushes over to her son, checking him over for injuries in a quiet, intent panic that he does nothing to stop, and then hissing as her burns make themselves felt. Wrapping him in a hair-cuddle, she stares at them mournfully as the sharp hiss of steam comes from the shore.

“I’m sorry to you, too,” she says quietly. “It _was_ a good plan, and your help was wonderful. I just didn’t think it through enough. It wasn’t your fault; it was mine.”

“Why, mama?” Rathan asks, openly weeping. His big pearl-sheen eyes are locked on her. “We had such a good plan and we did it together and Hanny was helping and... and... and we were getting along and it’s _nice_ when she’s nice and... and... and now it’s all ruined and you _did_ lie.”

Keris looks down at his face and thinks of Rat.

_ “Tell me a story, Rat,” _   
__  
_ “‘Bout what?” _   
__  
_ “Our house!” _   
__  
_ “Every time... fine. So one day we’re gonna get outta this place. Pull a big job; make a talent. We’ll be able to live anywhere we want; find a place with apples growing in the garden and food in every room...” _

“Sometimes...” she croaks, “sometimes... you make promises. And you mean to keep them. But... but the world doesn’t always agree. And you can try as hard as you can, but sometimes you just can’t deliver.” She strokes his face. “I really am sorry, sweetheart. You’re right to be upset, and I’ll find a way to make it up to you. And to Haneyl. I...”

She squeezes her eyes shut. “I know you might not trust me if I promise that, now. But I will.”

There’s a whoomth in the background and the nearby shoreline ignites in green. A few seconds later, a hot wet wind rushes over. There’s another explosion of steam in the distance, and another. A bright figure is pulling fire off the trees and throwing it into the water, and her screams of rage echo all the way back to Keris’ ears.

Rathan flinches.

“Hanny is super-mad,” he whispers. “Madder even than you being a fat liar deserves.”

Keris doesn’t really have anything to say to that. She can hear, though, that Haneyl has... changed. The sound of her essence has shifted - not exactly altered, but different sub-tunes have risen from the melody and others have been suppressed. She sounds different. She’s still Haneyl... but she’s much more of bits of Haneyl than normal Haneyl is those bits, and much less other bits of Haneyl than Haneyl.

Now Keris has a headache. But as far as she can tell, her daughter’s sounding a lot more... volatile. Hotter. Ligier-ish.

“I think...” she says, stroking Rathan’s hair as he cuddles into her, “I think she got so upset that her fiery side took over. And that means she’s burning very hot and is feeling even more upset.” She breathes a quiet sigh of relief that whatever this is, it’s apparently a natural part of Haneyl.

Sometimes raising demonic children with utterly inhuman bodies is hard work.

“I think... at a guess, it probably means she’ll burn herself out sooner,” she adds. “Her hungry side isn’t there, which means she’s not getting any food to burn with. She might calm down a bit after falling asleep.”

“I don’t know,” Rathan says dubiously. “She hardly _ever_ sleeps compared to normal people. Well, not quite as bad as Echo, but still. I’m the only one who sleeps properly around here.”

((o rathan, u so lazy))

Keris chuckles. “Well, you _do_ have the best bed,” she points out, gesturing up at his moon. “If I had a bedroom like that, I’d be happy to spend all my time there.” She pauses. “Actually, Haneyl ran off before I could say, but I do have a special job that I need you to help with, if you want to. I’m not going to steal the crew, but I _am_ still going to steal the ship - and then take it back to the Isle of Gulls. We’ve got lots and lots of ships in here, and the keruby are making a bit of a mess of some of them, aren’t they?”

Rathan shrugs. “They’re a fun place to play,” he says dismissively.

((Heh. I’m surprised he didn’t blame Echo for breaking the boats.))   
((... which in fairness she has totally done to some of them.))   
((“Eko, no!”))

Keris kisses him on the forehead. “I know. But the part of our plan where we got a working fleet out in Creation was a really good one. Can I put you in charge of getting all our ocean-going ships ready for me to move out for repairs? Not the ones you’ve made yourself with ribbons and ice and wood; those are all yours, but the ones we took from the Realm.”

“But what about the ones Echo broke?” he asks. “I’m not sure I can make them better. Echo breaks everything really hard.”

((... yeah, okay, I walked into that one.))

Keris bites her lip. “Can you make me a list of how each one is damaged?” she asks. “Then we can sort them out into ones that are lightly damaged and ones that need to be totally rebuilt like the Mercy of Hesiesh, and decide which ones it’s worth leaving at the Isle for repairs over Calibration.”

“Well, _okay_ ,” he says slowly. “But! But but but! Mama, you’re going to owe me a favour just like you owed Echo for that thing.”

Considering this for a moment, Keris nods firmly. “That sounds very fair,” she agrees. “Same rules as Echo’s - I do get to say no if I think it will cause serious bad things, but if I do you get to pick another one.”

Rathan gives Keris a big hug and a kiss. “Well, come on,” he says with a princely little clap. “You need to go punish the Realm by taking all their pretty things! And you need to get me to help you make the plans - and you _better not_ change your mind again!”

It’s nearly time to pillage Agenete, Keris thinks some later. She only has a little time until her target ship leaves, and she needs everything to be ready by then. Netara’s Mercy will be leaving - according to the best estimates of her captain when he reported to the administrator in this place - in eight days, making sure to time its departure on Mercuryday for good luck.

She slips out of the castle, opting not to sink her tendrils deeper into the captain, and sets to work. Luckily, she thinks, her explanation to Neride and the Priest didn’t actually specify that she’d be taking them - only that she’d infected them and that the ship would be returning to the Isle of Gulls. So she doesn’t have to weaken her position by backtracking.

The Baisha’s armoury is still heavily stocked with algarel. Keris lightens it by a few barrels, stowing them under the docks in a few carefully-chosen locations. The nice thing about algarel is that it’s not as upset by water as firedust - it goes off when it touches vitriol, not flame.

She also makes use of the time to head back to the Isle of Gulls and offload her ships. It’s about half a day’s swim each way, and she spends the swim looking over Rathan’s list with him and deciding what’s repairable and what’s not worth moving out of her soul.

“Mama,” Rathan asks, one day. They’re up on the moon together. Keris can see that Haneyl still hasn’t calmed down. Bright green fires still dot the Seawards coast of the Swamp, and there’s extensive white bands of ash marring the landscape.

“Yes, dear?” Keris says distractedly.

“Won’t the Realm people go ‘isn’t that strange’ if you use the scary green Haneyl-fire for burning their stuff?”

“Mmm,” she says. “Yes, they would. That’s why I only put it in a few places, and made sure the barrels were underwater. That way I’ll be dancing around looking like a Fire Aspect so everyone will be paying attention to me...”

She tickles him under his chin. “You can help with that, can’t you? And then when the algarel goes off under the docks it’ll spark more normal fires in the bits it’s underneath. Though you get it from vitriol, and anyone can summon metody, so even if they notice they’ll probably just think ‘aha! This Dragonblood is a summoner who’s been using demons to get explody things!’ And that’s bad, but it won’t point them to us.”

Rathan considers this, and accepts it.

((Does that mean the ST also considers this and accepts it? : P))   
((no comment))

Keris fills the last couple of days with another analysis of the town. She has a few names of people and places she can target to cripple the town, but the arrival of the Netara’s Mercy and the flurry of activity in loading it will have exposed more. She runs the experienced eye of a saboteur over the systems they’re unwittingly showing her, looking for points of failure and putting her time into getting a passable knowledge of the way the businesses and the flows of resources and trade happens here. If only she had had more time, she’d have a better model, but it might well do what it needs. She knows where the most valuable elements of the Ledaal trade is, and who runs them. She has the names of the portmasters. She highlights the areas between the castle and the docks that she can hit on a reasonably direct route, and makes a note of the path she’ll take. If she happens to hear any key targets near her in the chaos; all the better.

The heat in An Teng is growing more and more intense. It’s humid as hell and swelteringly hot. The rain comes predictably every day, with thick heavy storms sweeping in before noon and lasting through the afternoon. The nights are hot and full of mosquitos. Keris needs to choose when to attack.

She decides to hit them on Sunsday; two nights before they’re set to leave. If she starts at the castle - and perhaps takes her time there to allow them some running-around-screaming time - she can make it look like a failed attack and convincingly let them escape by setting off early. And it’ll mean they haven’t quite finished loading up the ship with things like food, so they’ll be eager to put in at another small port to finish stocking up on supplies. She can use that to lure them in.

Keris decides to strike in the early hours of the morning, when most decent people will be asleep. The moon is just a sliver in the sky, so few people will be able to see outside of their torchlight - but she doesn’t need her eyes when she has her ears. She’ll plant the algarel, grab the prizes, then set off the vitrioldust and get to work like a cat among the pigeons.

It’s fairly easy work planting the bombs. Keris is stealthy and silent and doesn’t need to breathe, and nobody notices her as she skulks about beneath the docks leaving a barrel here and a barrel there; priming and arming them with glass vials of vitriol that will shatter when her rampage sends them flying.

Getting into the castle is a little trickier. But it’s night as she makes her approach; up and over the wall in a flurry of movement, and she advances slowly and with aching stealth into the silver warehouses in lingering periods of watchful stillness and quick bursts of movement that take her over the traps and past the alarms.

A productive quarter of an hour sees quite a lot of silver go from where it technically _does_ belong (with other people) to where it rightfully _should_ belong (with Keris). Then it’s time for the... _louder_ part of her performance.

She makes her entrance before dawn, wreathed in fire and wearing the skin of a Fire Aspect from the lands north of An Teng. Two warehouses are burning before the alarm begins to sound.

Her usual weapons are distinctive, but Echo suggested the tumbaga sword she stole from the fire elemental back in Nexus. Which... Keris vaguely recalls Haneyl claiming, but her middle daughter isn’t really paying much attention at the moment - and if she throws a fit about it, Keris can just pay her for the “loan” with some of the silver.

She’s not accustomed to the weapon, but honestly Keris is so lethal that is scarcely matters. She takes her time at the castle; pulling attention to herself, making a racket and knocking down a number of the warehouses as if in search of the silver. Once it seems like there’s a fair amount of activity around the docks, she breaks free from the melee that she’s been comprehensively winning and heads through town, throwing around fire that eats away at buildings and sparks lesser blazes; its unnatural colour hidden by the lies of the Ebon Dragon.

((Okay, roll me Enlightement, please))   
((Uh oh. That can’t herald good things. Enlightenment 9. Urk. 3 sux. : S))

Keris watches as the Netara’s Mercy casts off. They’re running from the fire. There are other ships casting off, but only the ones close to it in the docks where Keris had to avoid planting anything to avoid damaging the vessel she wanted.

Her burning soul mingles quite well with the flames consuming the docks, and as it subsides to a forehead brand, Keris lets her disguise slip away and retreats under the docks, listening to the aftereffects of the chaos she’s wrought. She has plenty of time to go after the Netara’s Mercy, and she wants to make sure the town is will and truly ruined from her actions today.

((Just hearing-polling the town for what kind of condition they’re in.))   
((Reaction + Awareness))   
((14 dice; _whoa_. 12x2+4= _28 sux_ ; that’s basically everything in the town; material and otherwise. Fucking hell, Keris.))

The rush of noise is almost as overwhelming as the rush of success. People are shocked. Terrified. Scared.

There’s also a distinct note of ‘what manner of Dragonblood could have done that’ and ‘what have we done to deserve it’. Some of them are wondering if it was some enemy of House Ledaal; others whether it was some hot-headed rebel against Realm authority. They’re hoping they find them quickly, regardless, because the people here don’t know what they’ll do without their wages.

And of course, the wailing mourning of the dead has already started.

Wincing, Keris jets away. There’s no real way to fight a bloodless war against the Realm, and the docks needed to be destroyed but... it sits ill-at-ease in her gut. She was as surgical as possible in her path from castle to docks and left most of the town alone, but a frenzied melee is a frenzied melee, and fire is an undiscriminating enemy.

She tries to put it out of her mind and focus on finishing her mission. The Netara’s Mercy left early and largely unloaded. It’ll need to put in for supplies somewhere soon. Flitting past the window of the bridge, Keris beckons the Baisha from where it’s docked to follow their prey on a slow, patient hunt.

((Reaction + Travel))   
((5+0+2 Dread Pirate Style {follow the tasty boat~}+2 stunt=9. Gah! _1_ success; what the actual fuck?))

From how close it’s sticking to the shoreline, it’s planning to stop somewhere soon - somewhere north of here, probably in An Teng. Keris can’t be having with that. No, no no no. Somewhere like Lotus would be far too crowded; under the eyes of the Realm garrison. She wants to be well away by the time word of Agenete’s loss reaches the likes of Shuri the Scarlet.

So she gives them a reason to stop a bit sooner. Nothing as damaging as she gave the Mercy of Hesiesh - but still a few small holes just below the waterline that will have the bilges slowly start to flood.

Keris punctures the holes. Very soon, she hears the panic from the ship as men start trying to caulk the holds, hammering nails over the sealing planks they use. The captain gives the order to begin tossing the cargo overboard. It seems they have an order for the way they get rid of things - by order of value, except for things made of hardwoods. The hardwoods are kept because they help the vessel float. The winds are coming from the south, and the captain thanks the wind-gods for that. Very soon, stone carvings in the Tengese style are being tossed overboard.

This is very helpful of them, Keris decides, and accepts the tribute offered to her; stowing them away in her Domain.

Hours pass. At first, Keris thinks they’re heading for a small finishing village at the hook of the other side of the Dragon Mouth Bay - but alas, she’s read the wind and the currents wrong and it’s too late when she realises they’re going for the deep channel at the hook. Very soon, they’ll be in the bay - and then Lotus is maybe 30 miles away, or they might follow the winds and run towards Dragon’s Jaw, maybe 50 miles.

((argh, u h8 me))   
((You’re the one who fucked up that roll. : p   
And it was fairly obvious that they’d run towards somewhere _safe_ if they were carrying valuables))   
((Bluuuh. Hmm. Hmmmm. Oh, fuck it.))

Cursing, swearing and fuming with rage, Keris realises she has a choice. If the ship vanished before making it to Lotus, that would be one thing - vanishing afterwards would start looking very suspicious. So she can either take it and dispose of the men, or let it go and get her agents in the Realm Navy. Her main goal has been achieved - the silver is hers, and she’s claimed a fair amount of the wealth that the ship was carrying. The ship itself was more for her own uses than the Reclamations.

Nevertheless, she is _not_ in a good mood as she returns to the Baisha. In fact she is _spitting mad_ ; her caste mark flaring fiery emerald on her forehead, her hair writhing like a nest of striking snakes. Her First Circle crew members take one look at her as she storms down the corridors and immediately flee in the other direction. Even Neride looks vaguely intimidated as Keris passes her; snarling her fury at being forced into such a choice.

“What are your orders, my lady?” Neride says immediately. “How might I best serve you?” She clearly wants no blame for why Keris has a face like thunder and is clearly very disgruntled.

Keris flicks an apple out from her hair and tears into it, taking a few moments to calm down and think with her logic instead of her anger. It’s... surprisingly hard. She _wanted_ that ship. She wanted that ship _hers_ , it was _meant_ to be hers; it and the people on it! It’s not _fair_ that it got away, it’s not...

Realising that her caste mark is burning dangerously bright and is close to spilling over into an outright anima banner, she tones it back a touch. Maybe it’s because Haneyl is so angry at the moment, she thinks. That might be affecting her.

“It’s the middle of Rising Fire,” she grits out. “I want us underway for Malfeas no later than the first week of Crowning. We use the time between now and then to finish up here. That means relocating my cult in An Teng to the Isle of Gulls where the Realm’s reprisal won’t find them, and...” she purses her lips. “Perhaps capturing a raksha ship for the Unquestionable, if I can hunt one down.”

She cracks her knuckles. “The cult first. My harbour will be finished by the time we return after Calibration, or I’ll know why.”


	12. Chapter 12

Below the waters of the South West, the Memory of Baisha sails. From within her quarters, Keris Dulmeadokht considers her next move. It’s the second week of Rising Fire. That gives her at most two weeks before her self-imposed deadline on setting off for Malfeas. There are still a few things that need doing before then.

Chief among them is contacting Sasi. Summoning a blue-violet marlin, Keris gives it a terse message summarising the attack on Agenete and the escape of the Netara’s Mercy to take to Boromono, along with an inquiry about when her partner would prefer to leave. She’s still angry about that.

The second thing on her plate is getting the misbegotten to the Isle of Gulls, and to that end she leaves the Baisha moored on the seabed as she heads south to check how much progress her hopping puppeteers have made in the nearly-a-season they’ve had to work.

Sasi’s response is terse.

“Keris, dear,” her fox says.

“I was under the distinct impression that you were not going to attack the holdings of a Greater House. And yet you appear to have done so. You had best hope you left no traces for the Realm’s bloodhounds of the Order and the huntsmen of the magistrates to pick up on.”

Surfacing to listen to the cherub as it catches up to her, Keris scowls. Attacking the Houses of the Realm is her _job_. She’d like to see Sasi come up with a way she can cripple the Realm’s profits in the Southwest _without_...

“You’re being unfair,” Calesco murmurs. “You let her think she’d talked you out of it completely, and she doesn’t like surprises. And you’re not angry at her. You’re just angry that you lost the ship you wanted.”

Grumbling, Keris concedes the point. “I was careful,” she replies with another ice-marlin. “I looked and felt like a Dragonblood, the Baisha didn’t get involved and I didn’t linger. We can talk about it on the way across Cecelyne - when will you be ready to go?”

“I plan to leave at the end of the first week of Resplendent Fire,” Sasi’s fox says shortly, when it returns. “That should give Aiko at least a month with her father, even if I am forced to delay my departure to the North with Althing business. And yes, dear one. We will be talking.”

Keris nods. Three weeks, then. That’s enough time to supervise any quick changes needed on the island, shift the misbegotten there and, potentially, hunt down a raksha ship to make up for losing the Netara.

Hmm. She’ll have to consider how she’s going to move the misbegotten. But that’s something she can consider later. Right now she has a hidden harbour to look over. Keris heads to the Isle of Gulls with all due speed. The warm blue waters of the South West are fun to swim in, but she doesn’t let herself get distracted. Well, much. Haneyl is still burning and refusing to talk to her and won’t let her into her palace, but Keris does leave offerings of food outside her door to try to tempt her into coming out.

Her demons are making progress. They’re certainly making progress. They’ve broken down a fair chunk of rock from the rocky cliffs and cleared a harbour which is now guarded by elongated harbour walls made of the debris. Moreover, some of the marottes have been showing their own... uh, innovative concepts of design, and they’ve gone off plan, building strange cliffside dwellings into the exposed rock that they’ve been cutting away. The shapes are certainly not something humans would design and Keris isn’t actually sure all of them are accessible, but they’re certainly a thing. A thing which makes it more obvious this island is settled.

Looking over it, Keris winces as she remembers that if she plans to move her people to live here... well, it’s very barren and there aren’t many trees. It’s a rocky outcrop and people certainly aren’t going to be growing rice paddies here. She may need to make sure there’s much more vegetation coverage, maybe even sprinkle fruit over the place before using the power of the All-Hunger Blossom to make the seeds spring to life.

Sighing at the exposed dwelling places, Keris takes stock. The cliff-dwellings... well, she can deal with them when she gets back. The harbour is in more or less working order, at least. She releases the demons from their binding, watching as they fade back to Hell, and then claps her hands.

Food, then. Keris can do food. And has perhaps a week in which _to_ do it, which is plenty of time. The snarling sargasso fields that surround the island a fair way out from the shore are teeming with fish, though they’ll snarl oars and keels of any boats that try to move through them. Some land-based vegetation would be a good addition, and if she grows it from Metagaoiyn jungle and then breaks the sorcerous bindings, it’ll be more-or-less mundane swamp that’s fairly rich in food.

((Hmm. How do I resolve this?))   
((Uh... well, if you break it, it’ll be purely mundane and you’ll lose the reduced foraging difficulty. Hmm. At a mechanical/goal level, what do you want to do?))   
((Give them cover, a source of wood and shelter from the sun, vegetable food, land that they can try to reclaim and grow something else on instead of bare rock, etc. They can fish - under reduced Diff, because the sargasso is a Luscious Jungle - and I’m not inclined to have the -2 penalty against sickness or poison on the island itself, since they’re likely to spend more time there.))   
((Okay, hmm. So Keris is going to need a bit of experimentation on other islands and testing and countermagicing and repeating, etc, to get the proper kind of growth that’s actually useful and won’t cause too much damage to her island. So that’s, hmm, going to take a week of testing, Cog + Occult to research “using Metagaos to get a useful topsoil, etc, on an island”.))

Seeds are easy. Growing seeds is easy. Growing seeds in a way that creates decent soil is... less easy. In a way, Keris actually sort of welcomes the challenge. She can throw herself into the familiar cycle of testing and occult theory, tasting the ground and calling on the gifts of Metagaos again and again.

It’s faintly possible that the repeated use of her powers will make Haneyl come around, but Keris doubts it. But what it does do is get her mind off brooding over Agenete and the Netara’s Mercy and back onto helping people. _This_ isn’t complicated or uncomfortable at all. She’s making a place where people - her people - can live safely and comfortably. It’s simple, it’s a good goal to have, and it’s even something she can justify as supporting her job.

... it’s starting to get a little worrying how rarely all three of those coincide. So she enjoys it while it lasts.

The trick, Keris finds over the week of finding small islands and testing her magic on them, is to make sure to break Metagaos’ hold on the island before the roots start breaking it down too completely. She doesn’t want to do it to her island. She’ll destroy the harbour. In fact, she’s going to have to actively work on trimming the vegetation with Echo’s help when she actually does it on her island, to prevent the ground just being all wet and sludgy. That’s bad for crops, she’s certain of.

At some point, Keris isn’t quite sure when, she picked up more about farming than she thought she ever knew as a city girl. Maybe it came from internalising Metagaos, but she _understands_ plants now, almost like she understands the city.

She feels a warm happiness, followed almost immediately by a pang of regret as she remembers that Haneyl isn’t speaking to her and won’t want to talk about it. But moping about that won’t help her island. And she’ll only have one shot, so she’ll need to focus and get it perfect.

Testing wasn’t the only thing Keris did over her week of experimentation. She also made sure to grab as many fruit seeds as she could from nearby islands - jackfruit, durian, langsat and others. A convenient ship donated a small crate of unripe fruit to her cause on top of her gatherings - not as much as she’d have liked, but enough to bump up her starter crop.

She puts them all to use now, scattering them about the island and bouncing on her toes a little. It’s not the same sort of tension that she gets before a challenging fight, but she is a little nervous. This needs to go well.

Readying herself for a quick bout of sorcerous growth and countermagic, she starts casting.

Muttering prayers to herself, Keris bites her tongue and spits blood onto the centre of the area she’s calculated will do what she needs to. Her blood sinks into the ground, spreading and staining the rock, which begins to slowly ooze and bubble, breaking down. From her throat escapes a bloody gargle, something less than words, something which is made up of Haneyl’s growled ‘MINE’ and her own jealousy and a thousand dark things within her psyche.

A tree starts to grow, the first tree in this scrubby, rocky island. It’s an apple tree, except... not quite. Its bark is grey and its roots reach out of the ground and even as it grows it’s already shedding apples from the branches, which are rotting even before they hit the ground. The rich scent of rotten apple fills Keris’ nostrils.

All around her, plants are tearing their way out of seeds and biting into the rock.

It reminds her of nothing less than what happens if you drip some dilute vitriol on marble. The hungry power of Metagaos is literally devouring the stone and around it the seeds she’s scattered are already visibly starting to grow.

Keris waits. Occasionally, she calls on Echo and trims back the plants before the growing pools of stagnant water can merge together, but the fallen trees rot and decompose, becoming mould on the ground. Then new things grow from them. She even tries to cheer up Haneyl by burning sections of the forest, because it helps keep areas clearer and also feeds them with grey ash, and she does feel a pulse of happiness from her daughter in the back of her mind. She makes sure especially to burn the things which try to choke her harbour.

And then, as the sun creeps towards the western horizon, she decides it’s time to break the power of Metagaos.

At the centre of her island, Keris summons up her anima and touches the roaring current of the living world. Wrapping it around her fist as her soul burns bright around her, she spreads her arms and hair in an explosive motion.

“Break!” she roars, and _wrenches_ at the magic in the soil and swamp she’s grown. And the pulsing humidity... breaks. A cool breeze blows through Keris’ hair, and the scent of salt joins the scent of Haneyl’s swamp.

Keris looks around in the last of the dying sunlight. If she does say so herself, she did a rather good job of this. It’s very nice and islandy. And there’s plenty of apple trees and lots of other crops and they’re all growing super-big as long as you don’t mind some grey fleshy growths on all the plants. And she managed to keep her harbour mostly clear, too. She smiles. It’s a good start. Now all she needs to do is get the misbegotten here.

She has plans in that direction. Slipping into the water, Keris heads back towards An Teng, the Baisha... and her cult.

For once, Keris, Calesco and one of Dulmea’s gales do not meet in the Tower. Instead, today they’re sitting on the Inner City walls looking out onto the Meadows. Keris isn’t sure whether Haneyl is nearby - her seventh soul has been avoiding her, but as stealthy as Haneyl is, she could well be hiding nearby and eavesdropping on their plans.

“So,” she says. “Moving the misbegotten is going to be tricky. I don’t think it’s worth coming clean to them about the whole ‘demon’ thing yet, but using the Baisha is obvious. So, hmm. I guess I could just throw them a drugged feast, wait until they’re all asleep, move them onboard, make sure they _stay_ asleep, and then boom, they all wake up on the Isle of Gulls?”

She considers. “Dosage might be a bit tricky, though. It’s... hmm. Maybe a forty-hour trip, in the Baisha?” She chews a hair tendril. “I suppose I could just shift them all into the cargo hold and lock it; then they’d only need to be asleep for the moves in and out. It looks fairly impressive in there, I bet most of them would believe it was some sort of divine sanctum.”

Dulmea purses her lips. “Could we commission another captain to move them closer, so they could be carried only a short distance on the Baisha?” she suggests. “Or hire a captain to move them and then subjugate his will so he willingly serves us?”

Keris wrinkles her nose. “I’m looking at... what, at least two weeks sailing there? And I’m not sure if any Tengese captains would carry them,” she says doubtfully, and pauses. “Huh,” she adds. “I... hadn’t realised how much _faster_ I am than other ships.”

“Urgh.” She sighs. “I have a cult full of people, a perfect place _for_ those people, and no good way to get the first one to the second. Annoying.”

Calesco locks eyes with Keris. “Mama,” she says wearily, with a sigh which makes her red veil flutter. “Of _course_ Tengese captains will carry them, if you pay them. It’s just money. And then you can talk them into doing the right thing so they won’t be mean. And I can help by giving the captain dreams from the gods.”

“Yeah, but...” Keris protests, “... they’ll want. You know. Paying. With money. I can’t steal an ocean voyage.” She pouts.

Calesco crosses her arms and glares at Keris. It is quite an adorable glare, but it is a glare.

Sighing, Keris capitulates. “Fine,” she sighs. “Off you go and tell Darling Yellow that I’m coming, then. That...” she waves a hand vaguely, “her Promised Land is ready to accept her and her people; rich in food and warm and safe and far from those who would persecute them. Oh, and that I’ll visit her soon to tell her how she and her kin will be getting there.”

She kisses Calesco on the cheek. “I suppose there is a sort of poetry in using money the Realm was bleeding out of An Teng to help its poorest,” she admits.

Calesco leans in to kiss Keris, though she doesn’t remove her veil. “See, doesn’t it feel good?” she says sweetly. “You didn’t need this money anyway, and it’s helping these people.”

To her credit, Keris only grumbles a little, and her half-hearted ‘still gonna bargain them down as far as I can’ is... well, it’s entirely serious, but it only prompts an eyeroll on Calesco’s part before she takes off in a flurry of dark wings. As she goes,Keris hears a roar of rage, echoing out from the Swamp. The smoke plumes are suddenly thicker and she can see fire at their base. She winces. Haneyl _was_ listening in, it seems. And just as she was starting to cool down a little. Damn. Keris knows she’s going to have to do something very big for her daughter to forgive her for such repeated offenses against her nature.

The tantalising idea of a raksha ship dances around Keris’s mind again. A full crew... well, it might well be enough to make a fitting gift for the Shashalme even after turning a few choice faeries into jewellery for Haneyl. The trick there, of course, is _finding_ such a ship.

Well. That can come later. It’ll take almost two weeks for a Tengese ship to get the misbegotten down the coast, which is two weeks she can spend hunting for any raksha pirates she can find. The Shashalme, happily, is unlikely to care whether they’re alive or not.

First thing she’ll need to do is find a ship headed south from An Teng - preferably one which doesn’t have a cargo so will be willing to carry people. She’ll also need to consider what to do to the captain to ensure their loyalty to her - and how to stop them, say, selling _her_ people into slavery.

Keris starts her search in Dragon’s Jaw. Not only is it the logical place to start as the closest to the misbegotten’s actual location, the docks are also seedier than Lotus and more likely to have ships without a cargo.

That it lets her get a quick earful of the Realm garrison is another convenient bonus.

((Reaction + Bureaucracy to track down someone offering those services))   
((Oh goddammit Blasphemous Cultist Style would have been perfect for this. But I don’t have it yet. Urgh.   
5+0+2 Coadj+2 stunt=9. Uh. But apparently I didn’t need it, because holy shit _8 successes lel wut wow dice fairies_.))

Keris is surprised to find that, for once, everything goes as planned. She finds a hardwood trader, Captain Numai of the Blue Gull who’s heading south and hasn’t picked up a cargo yet. Sure, his ship isn’t the fastest thing around, but that’s because it’s got plenty of space - more than enough that he could carry the misbegotten.

And, better yet, Keris grins as she hears port tales that he was once a slave and hates all slavers. He won’t be selling her people.

Cloaked in Rathan’s innocence, Keris tracks him down and hangs back a little before approaching him; observing him and trying to judge what sort of offer is likely to make him sit up and take notice for what she wants.

It’ll be a hefty price, she thinks. More if he has to go out of his way, but if he’s shipping hardwoods he’ll be going in roughly the right direction anyway; she can just have him drop them off at the closest spot and move them the rest of the way via the Baisha while they sleep.

Of course, that’s just for moving them. It’ll take a couple of weeks, which means she’ll also have to sort out food. All in all it... well, it certainly won’t be cheap. Not that it will ruin her. She has more than enough to pay for it. She just won’t like doing so.

Sighing and allowing herself a bit more of a grumble, she puts on a Tengese face that bears vague resemblance to her Riyaah MuHiitiyah guise and moves in to start the negotiations; asking politely if he has a cargo and if not, whether he would like one.

At least her sixth sense - or, well, ninth or tenth sense really, given how much more she can sense than a normal mortal... okay, at least her _extra_ sense gives her an advantage in the haggling; telling her exactly when he’s starting to reach his limit for how much he’ll accept.

Keris is a... little liberal with the truth of _why_ she wants to transport a ship full of misbegotten down the coast. She swears up and down that they aren’t slaves and that they aren’t _going_ to be slaves, and he seems at least to believe that - possibly because her hatred for them radiates out through Rathan’s aura. She’s a little vaguer on what they _will_ be doing; dancing around the point and letting him fill in most of the blanks to his own satisfaction without realising it.

((3+5+3 Mendaciloquent Maverick+2 stunt+2 PoEU autosux=13. Woot! 10+2=12 successes! Man, the dice fairies _really_ support Keris doing this! : D   
... and... hated me attacking Agenete. Calesco. Have you taken over the dice fairies somehow? Stop that!))   
((Clearly Calesco is using both her TED links and her Adorjan links to affect luck.))   
((That or she has all her tar-cherubs looking for any future-clues and cheating.))   
((dammit calesco))   
((Echo explains that she knows how Calesco is doing it, but Keris is too stupid to understand it.))   
((¬_¬))

They come to a workable arrangement, and the man even proposes with a cunning expression that perhaps they can arrange a bulk purchase of supplies for the trip, which should make it cheaper for both of them.

Keris therefore is feeling a little better about having spent all that money when she walks away from the deal. Her next stop is a little way down the coast, in the shanty-town of the misbegotten, and Darling Yellow’s home. Keris slides in, slipping out of one form and taking a more divine one with fluid ease. As is the usual for her, she gives no warning of her approach - merely appears; melting out of the scenery as though she was there all along.

There are the usual series of gasps within the shrine-tent. Darling Yellow is looking even more elderly and frail, and Keris looks at her with some concern as she notes that she’s lost weight she could ill afford to spare.

“Darling Yellow,” she says softly. “My priestess. I would speak with you.”

The old woman flaps her hands, sending her children and relatives and followers out with a few words. “Holy one,” she says weakly. “Your dreams are a blessing to me. The gentle goddess of the night who visits me when I sleep helps me stay strong.”

Keris strokes her hand gently, quietly tasting her health. “My messenger,” she agrees. “She told you of the land I have made for your people? I have found a captain - a good man, honourable and true - who will take you there.”

“She did,” the old lady says. “I’ve talked with some of the family heads. They are... split. Some are desperate enough that they will do anything... but some fear the uncertainty. They worry things can get worse.” Darling Yellow doesn’t even blink. “Things can always get worse for those shunned by the _respectable_ gods.”

Breathing in, Keris lays her hands upon the woman, a thousand tiny mouths tasting her follower. She was right. She isn’t in good health. Age is slowly killing her. Her liver is shutting down. Her joints are killing her. And despite the fact she’s trying not to show it, she has a number of painful stomach ulcers. No wonder she isn’t eating enough.

“Now now,” Keris hums. “Tell them to come, and I will speak with them,” she says. “The _respectable_ gods seem to be doing little for those that worship them. While I... I help those in my care.” With a gentle smile she lets her hands branch into roots, seeking to ease Darling Yellow’s pain, sooth her ulcers and bolster her failing liver and joints. She wants her priestess to _see_ the new home that Keris has made for her.

The old woman is looking considerably better when the uncertain family heads arrive. Still old and frail, but no longer as faint or weak - and the release from the pain that must have been nagging her seems to have done a lot all by itself. She appears alone when the family heads enter, and another chorus of gasps go up as Riyaah MuHiitiyah appears behind her; smiling and radiant. The goddess’s skin is dark gold; her hair a mane of red coral, her fingers a tangle of grey roots. Flowers and vines twine around her in a living dress; stirred by a wind that none of them feel.

“My priestess tells me you have doubts,” the goddess says softly. “That you are uncertain in following me to a new land. That you fear the traditional gods - the gods who do nothing as you eke a living here; downtrodden and spurned by those who cast you out.

“I am not so callous,” she promises, and her voice is almost a song; her gestures pulling music from the air. “I have laboured to make a place for you - a home; far from here where such cruel spirits hold no sway. A place rich in food, where you need seek no work from those who hate you.” A slight twitch of her wrist, and a seven-petalled flower blooms in her hand. She offers it to them.

“I will not blame you if you choose to stay,” she says. “And in time you may hear from those who follow me, and trust their word, and follow. But those who come now will be the first, and will not have to stay here in poverty.” Sincerity radiates from every line of her. “All that you need to have a better life is the bravery to trust, and the determination to seek it.”

In the end, almost all of them choose to follow Keris. She’s particularly pleased that almost all the ones with young children come with her. She can hear their muttering and they’re thinking of the children, how maybe this is a chance to grow up somewhere else apart from the slums of the port, how it might be better to start afresh somewhere new. After all, the gods are on their side.

The ones who stay are, almost without exception, the ones who haven’t been misbegotten long - the ones who still have hope things can be different and don’t have the ties to Darling Yellow in the same way. All her old followers and her immediate family are going with the old woman.

Keris makes the arrangements; telling Darling Yellow and her daughter who her chosen captain is and what the arrangements are for his pay and the food. She tells them that she’ll be waiting when they reach their destination, to take them the last stretch to their new home herself.

There are tears in the old woman’s eyes as Keris says farewell to her.

“I hope that you give me enough strength to live to see the land you give us,” she says, bony hands gripping Keris’ with desperate strength. “Then I can die happy.”

“No dying for a long time yet,” Keris orders her, checking once again that she’s strengthened the woman’s failing health and feeling an unexpected pang of worry in her gut at the thought. “You’ll live to see your new home, and see your people settled there. They would be lost without you, my priestess.”

“You are divine,” Darling Yellow says softly, “and I am not.”

It takes a few days for her misbegotten to get packed and make their arrangements and liquidate their worldly goods, and Keris is there with them to help them get good deals and the like, after Calesco’s nagging. But then they’re on the vessel, sailing south, and she needs to find some new things to focus on.

Keris frowns. Things haven’t happened as quickly as she’d like. She might miss Sasi heading to the North, as she _needs_ to make sure things go right for her people.

After some uncertain time spent swimming in circles and cuddling Rathan to calm down, Keris decides to tackle the issue head-on. Swimming upriver to the Middle Lands, she makes to Sasi’s estate and quietly lets herself in.

“Mama,” Rathan says, as he snuggles up to her. “The coastline is all strange between me and Echo. There’s lots of metal and stuff there and it’s doing funny things to my water. Make her stop making my waters all strange.”

“Hmm?” Sasi, Keris finds, is not in her room. Which isn’t that surprising, since it’s mid-afternoon. Aiko is nowhere in hearing either, so she settles down in a chair to wait and meditate. Sliding into her Domain, she finds Rathan dressed up in a very smart-looking captain’s outfit, complete with special hat. He’s standing at the wheel of one of his ice-and-ribbon-sail ships with his hands on his hips, glaring at the coastline they’re anchored next to.

The coastline is not how it used to be. Keris can remember how it used to be - salt marshes drying out into dead salt plains. Now, it’s rocky and ridgy. There are black basalt islands jutting out of the shallow waters like teeth, shot through with veins of metal. And the coastline is even worse. There are vertical cliffs ascending straight up. Some of them are solid, salt-caked bronze.

Keris frowns. “This... doesn’t seem like Echo’s work,” she says. “Giant skulls and ribbons and massive broken pianos or harps, yes, but this is... Malfean, almost. Have you asked her about it? Oh, and I like your outfit! You look very captainy.” She takes in Rathan’s attire with a critical eye. It looks like he’s taken inspiration partly from the Hui Cha, and partly from what the Realm sailors were wearing. “Very handsome,” she confirms, nodding firmly.

Rathan smiles innocently. “Oh, it’s just something I put together,” he says. “It didn’t take long. And... oh, no.” He sees something behind Keris, and rushes to the rail of the ship. “Echo, no! Go away! This is _my_ time with mama!”

Turning, Keris sees a trail of mist being kicked up by someone who’s running across the water. Someone who’s utterly silent, so that’s why Keris didn’t hear her.

Hi, Echo gestures extravagantly as she vaults on board. She heard they were talking about her and blaming her for things which totally aren’t her fault at all. Keris picks Rathan up in her hair and settles him on her shoulders - which he seems delighted about, though she keeps a cautionary lock around his waist to make sure he doesn’t fall off.

“Dress,” she cautions Echo, who is already grumbling and putting it on. “Hmm. You know, I should work out how to make Artifact-y clothes that compress down like my Amulet does. Then I could make you some ribbon-dresses that turn into single ribbons when you’re not wearing them, so you could have a whole wardrobe braided into your hair or something.”

She taps her lips thoughtfully. “Well, something for later. Rathan thinks you have something to do with...” A hair tendril gestures vaguely towards the rocky, metallic coastline. “This?”

Echo defensively flaps her hands in front of her. She hardly did _anything_ here. And most of it was here when she got here!

Keris frowns. “So neither of you two did it. We can probably rule out Haneyl and Calesco. So what _is_ doing...”

She pauses as inspiration strikes. “Echo. When... just before Haneyl was born, when there were lots of plants growing but she hadn’t turned up yet. Was that like this?”

Well, Echo continues, she might - might, she emphasises - have sort of tried digging up some of the areas here when she found a little bit of metal here and then she found more! And then she wanted to see if she could have destroyed all the stone, but then it grew back even super-bigger! And... well, Echo concludes, maybe she tried doing that a few times and every time it grew back even more stony and metally.

But, she points out, that doesn’t make it _her_ fault.

“I thought you were supposed to be _smart_ ,” Rathan says bluntly. “A _real_ smart person would have seen it kept happening after the _first_ two times.”

Keris shushes him hastily. “So,” she says, “we might have a new soul growing, or it might be something that was here all along until Echo uncovered it by trying to make it go away.”

Echo points out that she wanted to see how _big_ the things could get. That’s studying the occult, which is something Rathan is too dumb-dumb for.

“Well,” Keris intervenes before a fight can break out, “in that case... Rathan? Set some of your friends to keep an eye on it and report back to you. Echo, no more cutting it away to make it grow bigger. I’m going to take my own look at it - Rathan, do you want to come and help?”

But mama, Echo protests with a sad expression, what happens if it stops growing if she just stabs it more?

“It won’t,” Keris tells her with an eyeroll. “Now come on. I want my own look.”

Her look is more of a listen as, with Rathan on her shoulders, she tours up and down a stretch of coast knocking on the stone and metal and taking a few experimental licks of various bits of it. It _does_ regrow, she finds. A field of metal stalagmites pushing up from the ground like trees gives her a good opportunity to test that, and sure enough, when she cuts down one of Rathan’s choosing - a slender specimen as thick as her thigh and as tall as she is - she can hear essence rushing to the break and starting a new round of growth.

((Cog+Expression for use of UWR: 3+5+2=10. Uh. Wow. _9_ sux, jfc.))

The blend of essence is... strange. It’s hers, of course, but it’s also subtly distinct in the same way that Echo’s and Rathan’s are. But it’s not either of them, and nor is it Calesco’s or Haneyl’s or Dulmea’s. There’s a bitterness to it; a metallic tang under a crackle of lightning.

Keris hums thoughtfully, and is about to suggest a more thorough search of the coast when she feels a prodding on her outside body, calling her back to wakefulness. With a quick kiss and a hug she deposits Rathan back on his ship, and opens her eyes.

Sasi is there, Aiko on her hip. Aiko is glaring at Keris. This is not unusual. However, Sasi is also glaring at Keris and from how... uh, _irritable_ her expression is Keris suspects that Aiko may be copying her mother.

Distracted by her suspicions of a new soul; Keris blinks at her for a moment before remembering what she’s here for. “Ah,” she mumbles. “Right. Can we talk?”

“Yes,” Sasi says, curtly. “I think we do need to talk. Keris, what _possessed_ you to do that? Do you know how much _trouble_ this is going to make for me? I _told_ you not to do this! Now the Magistrate is headed right there and the Immaculate Order and even if they don’t detect your presence, it means they’re going to be looking for subversion throughout An Teng!” Her eyes are flashing - metaphorically. She’s clearly furious.

Honestly, Keris thinks she sounds petulant and whiny right now. Her hair rustles and unbraids itself to form a single coiling serpentine body behind her as she rises to her feet. “What _possessed_ me?” she asks incredulously. “Sasi, it’s my _job!_ The one the Unquestionable gave me! You asked me not to make waves as a Solar so I didn’t, but you can’t tell me to outright ignore the Althing’s orders! I’m meant to _cripple the Realm’s profits from An Teng_ ; there’s _no way_ I can do that without angering them! And they’ll be looking for a Fire Aspect from the lands north of here; not us!”

“Why? Why would they be looking for a Fire Aspect from the lands north of here? The rumours going around here right now were that rebels in An Teng are striking against the Realm! The Realm is cracking down with an iron fist to look for rebels and subversives hidden in the population!”

This prompts a pause and a frown. “I was disguised as someone from further north...” Keris mutters. “Damn. The rumours must’ve shifted in the telling, then. Or maybe it was just that nobody looked close enough to catch on; same difference.” Her hair settles down as she scowls. “That is a problem. Though I couldn’t exactly stop to say ‘oh by the way, I’m not a Tengese rebel’.”

“That’s why a false flag operation can’t just be half-done - like apparently you were _entirely_ determined to do!” Sasi whines. “When I suggested that you pretend to be a pirate, that means pretending to be a pirate! Sailing up with pirate ships and a pirate fleet! There’s nothing in the rumours about any ships being seen, so of course the rebels who did it were local!”

Keris can’t think of a good answer to that one, though she does her best not to show it. “So I’ll hit a couple of other places and draw a link between the Fire Aspect and the Lintha,” she snaps. “That’ll send them off after a false lead; no need to worry.”

“There is always a need to worry!” Sasi snaps. “You didn’t think at all! You rushed out and did it... why? Why? You could have left it until later, you could have let me organise things, but you just rushed out and did it!”

“We’re heading back to Malfeas soon! I needed something big for the Althing!” Keris protests. “I don’t... I don’t need to rely on you to do everything for me! That’s unfair to both of us! I’m not some child you have to run things for!”

“Apparently you are!” she snaps.

There’s silence in the room. Keris on one side. Sasi on the other, panting, clinging almost defensively to Aiko who’s on the verge of tears. Aiko begins to wail. Keris trembles, thin-lipped and tense as a strung wire. “You want to take that back?” she forces out quietly, her hair massing around her ears to protect against Aiko’s loud cries.

Sasi gulps down air. “Some... sometimes. You ran out and did this. I... most of the time, you’re fine, but... but then you did this!” She hugs Aiko tight, rocking her. “What am I supposed to do?”

Only someone who knew Keris very, very well would be able to tell how much tension leaves her frame at Sasi’s partial retraction. She’s still on edge, but no longer poised on the knifeblade.

“... head north,” she says quietly, looking down. “Just like you were planning to - maybe even a little earlier. I’ll stay here a few weeks longer. I can join up with Narooj and make a big, public attack on a couple more places; make an obvious target for the Realm to follow. I caused this, so I’ll fix it.”

Sasi gulps down air. “That... that’d be better,” she says. “I... I’ll send some messages to tell you that I got to Malfeas safely and another when... when I get to the North.”

And with that said, she all but rushes out, clinging to Aiko.

Keris jerks towards her as she leaves, but pulls back as Sasi vanishes into the corridor. Gritting her teeth, she stalks in a tight circle, hair lashing angrily, before exiting via the window and making her way back to the river.

“Gajui Narooj,” she grits out to her ice-marlin messenger. “Where are your ships? I have need of you.”

The message, when it comes back nearly ten minutes later, doesn’t seem to do much to sate Keris. “Respected sister,” his voice says hesitantly, “I am just out of Bluehaven, heading west following the orders of my respected grandmother who would have me destroy one of our clients who has betrayed us.”

Making her way back down to the coast, Keris growls. West is no good to her. That’s heading _away_ from An Teng. But depending on where Bluehaven is at the moment, he might be weeks away from An Teng, and useless to her efforts to quickly throw out bait for the Realm.

“How many days from An Teng are you?” she replies. “There is an opportunity within the next week that would bring glory to the Lintha.”

“Respected sister, I would be twelve days out, with favourable winds,” comes his cherub-born response. “And I fear that I cannot help - my own grandmother would be loathe to release me from my duties. If you wish for my fleet, no doubt she would be happy if you would show her how much your sacred mission would aid her and the Lintha.”

Keris growls. “Twelve days would be too long,” she sends back. “I will find another way. Good hunting, brother. May the winds aid you and your blade be keen.”

So, she thinks as the marlin flits off. No Lintha. What does that leave her?

She has the Baisha, of course. But that’s not a hand she wants to play just yet. So she needs something else that will point to the Fire Aspect who attacked Agenete being, crucially, not from An Teng. Or not _in_ An Teng. That’s the only thing that really matters - that the enemy the Realm go searching for is elsewhere; attacking from outside the satrapy, entering it only on daring raids.

Sasi said that the magistrate is heading to Agenete to investigate, she thinks. If nothing else, she can see if she can beat him there. Perhaps she can seed some rumours about the attacker, and work from there.

The magistrate - well, it’ll depend what he’s travelling by. If he’s a sorcerer, he’ll be there already probably, but if he’s travelling by horse, especially if he wasn’t in Dragon’s Teeth to start with, she might be able to beat him there. Or at least he’ll still be there.

Nellens Niramono, that’s his name, Keris remembers. Sasi said he was an Earth Aspect through and through, and stubborn to a fault.

It’s worth a shot, Keris decides, and sinks deeper into the water before setting off at her top speed.

It’s night in Agenete when Keris gets back there. The town is a disaster zone. It smells strongly of wet, burned wood. The puddles on the streets are black and sooty. There’s a vitriolic green foam on the waves, still, and Keris feels her eyes hurting from it as she clambers out of the water.

She purses her lips. That’s going to be a trace of hellish influence, then. But it might work to her favour if she can spin a proper story about a Dragonblood aligned with the Lintha. Masking herself in shadow, she slips into the town and starts sampling the local gossip to see what’s being said - and whether the magistrate is here.

Certainly, the magistrate is here. He arrived the day before yesterday riding a tornado which also carried other people and horses, the rumours say. He’s been stomping around all over the place in spotless white armour. He’s been talking to whoever he can find - of course, the rebels killed everyone in positions of power here and blew up the docks and stole all the silver. He’s had the local law enforcement grab all the troublemakers, too, and they’re being kept in the castle.

Keris even finds some people in a drinking-house who appear to be gloating over it, talking in hushed voices about how it’s a sign that the Realm is going to be thrown out of An Teng and they’ll be free. Of course, she wasn’t invited to that conversation. She was just listening in from the other side of the room, nursing a rice wine.

It’s a relief that he’s here. Of course, that doesn’t mean Keris wants to talk to him _directly_. He might have magic like Sasi’s that can sense lies, or something. So she needs to get information to him second-hand. But _what_ information?

The Lintha, she decides. She can make a pretty good case through rumour that the Lintha were involved. After all, isn’t there foul green scum floating around the docks, like the stuff you find in the Wailing Fen? Didn’t the ship that escaped suffer holes below the waterline? Haven’t ships carrying valuables been going missing for months? A treacherous Dragonblood on the side of the demon-pirates would explain that - and apparently they’ve got confident enough that they’ve moved from attacking ships to harbour towns! If something isn’t done, their fleets will start ravaging the coastline!

Yes, Keris decides. That should hold together - and it sounds believable enough that it’ll at least get heard. But these rebel-supporters won’t be the ones to tell about it. She’ll want to spread this line of reasoning among those who support the Realm - especially those who’ll go to the magistrate with it.

((Cog + Expression to build the story together and things like the Lintha ships seen off in the harbour with no lights and the sea monsters they rode up to shore, etc, and then Per + Pres to spread it to the right people))   
((Storybuilding - 3+5+3 Mendaciloquent Maverick+1 bonus {Realm loyalists want to believe in an external threat like the Lintha that’s not the fault of their fellow Tengese}+2 stunt+4 Adorjan ExSux {bad things happen, catastrophe, calamity}=14. 8+4=12 sux.   
Storytelling - 3+5+3 Mendaciloquent Maverick+1 bonus+2 stunt+4 Kimmy ExSux {elegant practicality, keep secrets by any means necessary}=14. 5+4=9 sux.))

It’s a swift plan executed on the edge of Keris’ nerves. In a number of Tengese forms, she insinuates herself into various places and hands out the bits of the story she’s been devising.

To weaver-woman washing their clothes in a water trough, she drops the mention of the ships on the horizon with no lights.

To old men drinking in a bar, she mentions the sea monsters seen along the coast.

To one of her mentors who’d taught her, she comes back in that form and weaves a tale of black-dressed figures with long hooked swords.

To dockworkers, she comes in the shape of another dockworker and hisses a tale about being bribed to ignore a cargo that smelt like what vitriol smells like if you’ve never smelt it before.

And so on, and so forth. She works through most of the day, and takes the opportunity as dusk falls to summon one of Ululaya’s innumerable followers. A dead sea-demon found washed up on the shore come morning will lend extra credibility to her story - and she can leave a couple more in more concealed places in case a search is ordered.

Rathan likes this. Rathan likes this a lot.

((Well, that was _close_. The magistrate got 11 successes on investigating Keris’ story.))   
((... *terrified twitching*))   
((ngyhe))   
((Man, am I glad I got 12 for story _making_ and 9 for story _spreading_ , and not the other way around.))

As Keris blends in and spreads her stories and watches the aftermath of the Realm soldiers finding a dead demon washed up near the blasted remnants of the pier, notably corroded by the vitriol foam in the water, that’s when two soldiers find her.

“Come!” orders a female legionnaire, in badly accented Firetongue. “Now! You talk to us!”

The only excuse Keris can offer for why they get close enough to her to grab her is that her mind locks up in a flurry of what-to-do for a second too long. Run-fight-talk-obey... and then they’re close enough that all her attention has to go to hiding the combat skill in her movements and refreshing the shadow-guise she’s under.

This is, she is dryly aware, very bad. But, for once, not her fault! Dulmea can’t blame her for this - she was blending into the crowd perfectly! That they chose _her_ to grab was just plain bad luck.

They take her to the castle. There are long benches of people who dress like local peasants, all sitting there in rows. Every few minutes, someone leaves the room in front of them, and someone new gets called in. Keris notices that everyone leaving the room has ink marks on their fingers. She remembers vaguely that the Realm often uses inky prints as ways of marking statements, for people who can’t write their name.

She seriously debates just fading into the background so that nobody notices her. But... what if they’re keeping count of the number of people they’ve brought in? She feels Rathan touch her mind soothingly, reassuring her that everything will be alright; that she hasn’t done anything wrong and nobody can blame her.

Still. She’s twitchy, and wishes she’d thought to ask Sasi more about exactly what Dragonblooded can _do_ , beyond throw fireballs and walk on water. Whether they can root out secrets and lies, taste the strength of a person’s essence, pick up on falsehoods or omissions in a story.

Though, Keris thinks as she focuses on breathing - quick and fearful breaths that she doesn’t bother trying to smooth out - whatever the person inside that room is doing, it’s only taking a few minutes per person. All she has to do is bluff for that long.

It takes half an hour, but soon enough it’s her turn. She’s seated in front of a tired looking Realm woman in a bureaucrat’s robes. She has a handsome young man - possibly from the Far South - making notes for her, and there are several guards at the exits. None of them are the jade-armoured magistrate she’s seen stomping around town, though.

“Name, place of permanent residence, and reason for being in Agenete,” the woman says, clearly repeating something she’s said too many times already today.

Keris thinks very, very quickly. Family is important in An Teng, and a false name - if they put any effort at all into checking - will be flagged. She could claim to be from one of the homes that burned down, but that’s still risky. She needs something that can plausibly explain her being rootless in Tengese...

... oh. Of course.

Stuttering, Keris says that her name is Lucky Sand. She is, she admits haltingly, misbegotten - belonging to no family and in Agenete looking for work.

The Realm woman sighs. “What name were you born under?” she says. “I don’t care about your silly disowning. Full name and known aliases, and if you are currently lacking a residence permit, give me your place of birth.”

Keris gapes at her in actually fairly genuine horror for a moment, but then reluctantly gives her a name from the same family as Little River. Sasi arranged for there to be some evidence of that alias in case of investigation; hopefully she can do the same again.

“Thank you,” the woman says irritably. “Please can you not waste my time in future? I have a lot of people to get through. How long have you been in Agenete?”

“Three weeks,” replies Keris meekly, bowing her head in a nervous gesture.

The scribe is writing everything they say. “Very well,” the woman says. “So where were you on the night of the attack on the city? What did you see?”

“I was at the docks,” Keris says fearfully. “There was fire, and screaming, and dark shapes in the sea!”

“Mmm. What were you doing at the docks? Did you see any suspicious activity around the docks prior to the attack?”

“... no,” Keris admits. “I was looking for work - loading cargo on ships, or on the crews... and then the screaming and the fire began, and I ran. There was a smell...” She lets herself babble a little, describing an awful wind that had come from the sea, smelling of foul things and death. It’s not an especially detailed description, and sounds like it may have grown larger in memory.

“And then later in the night. What did you see after the docks exploded? What happened when the fires were being set in the town?”

Many fires burned and many lives were lost, Keris tells her. She’s heard there was a terrible figure who stalked through the flames killing all who saw it, but she stayed hidden until daybreak; fearful of vengeful ghosts and the still-burning fires.

“Mmm.” The woman waits for the scribe to finish making notes. “Thank you very much. Just a few more questions. Please answer yes or no to the following questions. Are you a member of, or associate of, any groups which actively or passively oppose the glorious Realm and its most magnificent Empress?”

“No,” Keris outright lies, though there is a small seed of Echoan curiosity as to what would happen if she said ‘yes’.

“Are you a member of, or associate of, any groups which actively or passively oppose the three Princes of An Teng or their duly appointed representatives?”

“No,” Keris replies, slightly more truthfully. At least, she can’t _remember_ anything she’s done against the Princes. Intentionally. Offhand.

“Are you a member of, or associate of, the Lintha family or any of its pledged associates?”

“No!” Keris lets a look of disgust slip onto her face, which isn’t too difficult. It’s not like she’s short on genuine disgust - the waste they’ve made of the demesne at Kalbada is enough.

“Are you a member of, or associate of, any other Infernalist groups that conspire against the Dragonblooded, the gods or the righteous order of the world?”

“No,” says Keris Dulmeadokht, Green Sun Princess; in perhaps one of the most blatant falsehoods of her entire life.

“Are you a member of, or associate of, any groups which engage in the Hundred Gods Heresy?”

“... n-no,” Keris stutters, a flash of fear showing on her face.

“Are you a member of, or associate of, any groups which have connections to the Marebada Insurgency or any other deserters from Imperial Justice?”

Keris doesn’t hide the blank look of confusion. She doesn’t even know what those things _are_. “No,” she replies.

Wearily, the woman shuffles her papers - her script, Keris concludes. It feels like everything is coming to an end. “Is there anything else information wise relevant to the attack on this town which you believe we should know or that you can contribute?”

“No, honoured one,” Keris says with a humble bow of her head.

“Very well. Can you write your name?”

Keris lets a look of barely suppressed panic cross her face, glancing fearfully at the pen as though it were some sort of torture implement. “Uh... n-no, honoured one.”

The woman rolls her eyes, obviously despairing at this barbarian people. “Right. Papers!” Her scribe passes the transcript to her. She pushes a shallow dish of ink. “Note the box. Please put your thumb in the ink, then press it against the paper. Then do it with the other thumb. That will be the marker indicating that you have already talked to us.”

Keris meekly does as she is told, radiating the desire to be anywhere else from every line of her body.

“Hmm,” says the scribe. “Ma’am, she fits the criteria for someone we might want to have asking some questions.”

“So she does,” says the woman. “Girl, how would you like to... uh, earn some extra money?”

The desire to be somewhere else runs into the desire for money, shakes hands, and Keris’s eyes flick up with interest. “I... would, honoured one?” she hazards.

“Follow my assistant,” the woman says, clearly wanting rid of Keris.

The assistant rises, adjusts his robes, and looks at her. “Follow me,” he says, picking his way out of the room. He gestures and the guards follow him. “You are not to say anything about this to anyone, you understand,” he orders. “As far as everyone else is concerned, we just asked you questions. Do you understand?”

Keris nods very, very quickly. She definitely understands. Completely. For sure. Totally. Absolutely.

He opens the door to a dimly lit room, and gestures Keris through. There are no windows, and only a few candles in there. She can hear that there are several people in there, standing in the shadows. They’re armoured and armed.

Her trembling kicks up a notch and she walks forward reluctantly, looking around fearfully at the gloomy nooks and corners of the room - though taking care to miss most of the locations that actually have people in them.

There’s a chair. “Sit, please,” says one of the figures in the shadows. Keris recognises the magistrate’s voice.

Plaguerot, she thinks with feeling, and sits. She does her best to look like she’s deeply regretting the choices that brought her here - which is in fact true. She’d rather not be this close to a Dragonblood, even if it does occur to her that she could kill him now with nobody the wiser.

She hears the scrape of a blade behind her as the scribe picks up what sounds like a jade spear of some kind. “This woman is an infernalist and ally of the Lintha who plots against the Realm,” the ‘scribe’ says, spear levelled at her back. She can already hear the hiss of air-aspected essence escaping him, and now blue light shimmers to life. The magistrate in the darkness begins to glow a cold hard white, there’s a blue light from outside, then and there’s an orange crackle as a fire-aspect reveals himself.

Or, rather, reveals _herself_. Shit. Shit shit shit, Keris thinks morbidly. It’s _that_ fire aspect. The bitch from that Realm ship she attacked. The swordswoman with the embers in her hair and the loud voice. She must have signed on with the An Teng magistrate, perhaps looking for... uh. Well, maybe sorta kinda revenge.

All the four Terrestrials in the room are ready for violence, and there are more soldiers here in these tight quarters.

“Are you sure?” grates the magistrate.

“Positive. I didn’t believe it myself - but the lack of papers or a residency permit was telling and her name wasn’t on the list of dockworkers, labourers, or registered temporary residents. And she was lying about what she saw there, too. Probably a Lintha spy trying to cover up what they did - and we know they have Terrestrials among them.”

“The right decision,” rumbles the magistrate. “So. Speak, or we’ll send you to your next life.”


	13. Chapter 13

One could hear a pin drop in the silence in the room.

Of course, Keris can always hear a pin drop, so instead she could hear a hair drop. The hush is broken by a distant rumble of thunder as she thinks. Her mind is a whirl; her souls for once silent as she assesses rapidly. She discards any attempt at detailed analysis - that can come later - in favour of a few simple conclusions.

Coming here was a mistake. She should have cut and run as soon as those soldiers saw her - not panicked about what to do and how best to lie to them.

There are four Dragonblooded around her. She might be able to kill them, but not without revealing herself as an Exalt. But for the moment, they think she’s a Lintha spy.

It’s good that they think that. It’s exactly what she wants them to think. But they can see through lies; and anything she says might blow that cover.

So she can’t fight, and she can’t talk. That leaves only one option: run. Admittedly there are four Dragonblooded, quite a few soldiers and a heavy door to contend with, but Keris is good at running.

Thunder rumbles again; bare seconds after the first peal. There must be a storm rolling in. That’s good. It’ll be easier to get lost in the rain.

Keris licks her lips, breathes in as if to speak, and explodes into motion.

Her sudden lunge for the door seems to take them completely by surprise. Presumably they weren’t expecting a cowed, caught spy to make a break for it with a Dragonblood right behind them. More fool them, Keris thinks as she rolls sideways and half-runs, half-leaps for the door. Though small and slender, she’s fast-moving and a lot stronger than she looks, and she aims her shoulder at the point right next to the lock with every bit of force she can put behind it. One tiny piece of metal is _not_ going to stop her escaping this trap.

((Okay, well, attack that door! It has DV0, because it’s a door. It does not have MDV 0. It will not open if you ask it to.))  
((It is clearly a very strong-willed door. Loyal and steadfast to the Immaculate cause. I’mma kill it.  
5+5+3 Wild Alleycat+2 stunt(x2 CCC)=15.  
...  
holy shit, keris  
13x2= _26 sux_.))

The lock does not break. However, the door does. The iron hinges break away from the wall in a shattering of stone and the door falls outwards. Keris pushes off the falling solid oak door, and turns a corner trying her best to remember to not run on the walls. She bends forward in a sprint and _tears_ down the hallways, grabbing at furniture, wall-hangings and the occasional person to tip them over or throw them backwards and slow her pursuers; following the path they led her in through as best she can remember it.

Keris pushes herself forwards, heart racing, lungs pounding. She’s painfully aware that she’s pregnant because in something like this every little bit of weight matters. Not that she _has_ weight, of course, running like this - and that’s another things she has to be careful about because she has to remember to not do things like leap off people who’ve just dropped papers.

But she needs to draw out every little bit of advantage she has, because she can feel the fire licking at her back. That _fucking fire aspect_ is after her. She’s after her super-hard. And she’s _faster_ on the straights, with her soul burning bright and the papers and wall hangings igniting around her.

Keris sees her chance and throws herself through a window, the shutters smashing around her. She’s now out in the castle grounds, and already the shouting and the ruckus means that the Realm soldiers are snapping to attention. She needs to get out of here - and preferably let people see for sure that she’s Lintha.

Except she can’t spare the energy to pretend to be Lintha. She can already feel herself flagging; exerting herself like this without flaring her soul is exhausting, and she’ll need it all for the chase. The worst part is, she could outrun this bitch if she could only show her true colours. It’s _infuriating_.

But if she can make it to water, Keris is sure can outpace the woman without making it obvious that she’s an Exalt herself. It’ll even look like she’s a Lintha; going straight for the sea! But first she needs to get out of the castle. She points herself at the nearest crowd of people and crashes through them - if Miss Fire Aspect wants to follow her, she’ll have to burn civilians to death; and that’ll be on her head more than Keris’s.

Then she keeps going; hitting the wall and scrambling up it in a way that blatantly defies natural law. She goes down onto all fours as she runs upward; arms and legs scrambling for handholds she doesn’t really need as though she’s more chained by gravity than she is, but she’s still far, far faster than any natural creature as she climbs.

Follow _that_ , she thinks as she risks a quick glance back. Thunder booms again as she nears the top of the wall. Like a nimble spider, Keris flickers up from place to place, scrambling against rocks with her bare hands as if she has holding places where she has none. Throwing herself to the right, she narrowly dodges a fireball from the flame lady and vaults over the top of the walls, sliding down to the ground.

She wastes no time in running, heading as fast as she can for the nearest river as thunder rumbles overhead again and something deep and echoing goes _boom_ in a way that she can feel resonate through her bones. Shit. Are they insane enough to bring _artillery_ into this? What kind of people _are_ these Dragonblooded? From behind her, she can hear a high pitched noise, rising and falling. It’s some kind of alarm system of the Realm. But Keris is away, heading down to the docks, and slipping away into the water.

It feels so good to get underwater, away from the oppressive heat outside. Pointing herself straight out to sea, she doesn’t relax until she’s moving faster than the Baisha can and her caste mark is burning on her forehead. Then, and only then, she lets herself sink into meditation; flushed and jittery from the near miss.

She flings herself into Dulmea’s arms almost before she finishes forming, so intently that she misses the fact that they aren’t in the Tower.

At least until the next rumble of thunder.

All around her is ice and red-pink pearl. Rathan’s moon is beautiful - not as beautiful as Ululaya’s moon, Keris thinks guiltily, but still nice - and she can see that on the top here some of his kerub friends have put together crude structures of ice and pearl.

Dulmea, of course, appears to have felt this was inadequate for her own tastes and has built an observation tower, a lesser form of her own harp-tower. This has amazed the keruby, and a gaggle of little mostly female wave-cherubs were until Keris arrived flocking to her to ask her questions about how she did it.

“They-” Keris babbles, somehow hyperventilating without actually needing to breath. “And I didn’t... they just took me to a cell and flared, and... and that thunder’s still, I don’t...”

She’s trembling, she realises - and her hair has pulled her Lance to her from her armoury, apparently on instinct. She spares an arm to clutch it to herself like a security blanket, and feels ever-so-slightly better. They’re slightly cool and rather damp, but the sight of her distress prompts the orvenkeruby to cluster around Keris and start hugging her.

“Oh, child,” Dulmea says. “You usually do not try to engage with the Dragonblooded. You let your guard down, did you not?” She pauses. “Also, try not to let the girls play with your spear, or they may cut themselves.”

Keris nods mutely and passes it back to her hair, holding it up out of their reach as she lets the childish sympathy calm her down. Another resonant _boom_ makes her startle.

“What _is_ that?” she asks, looking around. “Artillery, or something? Why can I still hear it in here?”

Dulmea sighs. “That would be why I am up here. Something is happening on the border of the lands of the Sea and the Ruin.” She gestures out of the window with her hair. Keris can see night black clouds under her, and there are flashes of lightning. “The sky descended in clouds of night, and there are volcanos of molten metal. Rathan is inspecting the area on boat, and he blames Echo for it. He thinks she broke something when she started stabbing the ground again. He also says she’s been stealing some of Haney’s fire in burning winds and luring it into the ground.”

“Of course she did,” Keris says flatly, scowling. “Didn’t I tell her to _stop_... urgh, never mind.” She bites her lip. “Maybe I should go down there.”

“You seem unwell,” Dulmea says mildly.

“A chunk of my soul is... something,” Keris says with a wave. “I... I should...”

There’s a scrape behind her, and she has her Lance levelled at the throat of a surprised-looking kerub faster than she can blink. The... girl, she thinks, is hugging a little icy trident with coral tips, and stares back at her wide-eyed.

“... sorry,” Keris whispers, relaxing and dismissing her weapon. “I’m too... fuck, I’m still on edge from that _room_ , and the way they... I can’t relax right now. I’m going down to see what’s going on. Need to be doing something.”

Dulmea crosses her hair. “No,” she says. “First you are going to sit down and have some calming tea, before you do anything. You are as jumpy as a blood ape on cocaine.”

Another _boom_ , and this time Keris can pinpoint the source. Which... should have tipped her off before, now that she thinks about it. When she was hearing the thunder as she ran, it wasn’t coming from overhead, or... anywhere, really. Because it’s actually coming from down on the Coast. In fact, she realises as she cocks an ear, the thunder is from the clouds, but the booms are from... underground, by the way they’re resonating. Deep underground.

“... fine,” she agrees reluctantly. “Tea. But then... wait, where are Haneyl and Calesco?” She glances towards the Marsh, where smoke and green flickers are still visible among the trees.

Dulmea carefully - agonisingly slowly - pours the tea. “Haneyl took the impression that Sasimana views you as a child who cannot make her own decisions... very poorly. She has burned a circle of the swamp near the fog wall to ash, and is refusing to let anyone near. She is also refusing to come out of the ash circle. I have had this imparted to me by her companion petal-cherub. Meanwhile, it seems that Calesco is scared of thunder and thus she is staying with me in the City, where the music can drown it out.”

Nodding, and gritting her teeth at how deliberately slow Dulmea is being, Keris waits until her cup is poured and then gulps it down as quickly as she can without being uncouth. She notices the wave-cherub girl with the trident edge closer and watch avidly as she summons her Lance back; carefully mimicking the way she’s holding it.

“If Rathan and Echo are down there, I should be too,” Keris tries, though she has to admit Dulmea may have had a point. She’s not literally trembling anymore, though she’s still a little on-edge. “Last time something like this happened, Calesco was born.”

Dulmea sighs, and clearly slugs back her cup of tea. “That is what I fear to be the case,” she admits, gracefully rising. She begins to gently massage Keris’ back with her hair. “And that is why I am trying to calm you down. It may delay this birth - and if it does not, it will prevent your agitation passing to the soul. I would suggest that you shed your worst fears or do something else to calm your mind.”

“... oh,” Keris... can see her reasoning there. “Yeah. That’s... let me just...”

She breathes in, takes the jittery, panicky, bubbling _fear_ , and...

... lets it go.

There’s a moment of profound peace, and Keris gives her mother a soft, loving look as she basks in it. She’s so lucky to have Dulmea looking out for her, she thinks, and skips forward for a hug and a happy nuzzle.

Then the emotion that was _behind_ the fear catches up to her.

“... wait. That _bitch!_ When I next see that fucking Fire Aspect I’m gonna cut all her bones out and build her a fucking gallows with ‘em!”

Slowly, Dulmea massages her eyes with her hair.

((welp, that regained compassion channel lasted a while))

“... sorry,” Keris says in a not-very-sorry-at-all tone of voice. “Sorry, just... this is the second time, and... yeah, I’ll just, uh...”

She dips a quick curtsey and flees, making for the nearest upward-waterfall that has a source along the coast.

The dark stormclouds crackle with thunder. Keris’ hair stands on end as she descends. Glowing red-hot metal erupts from towering spires that are tearing their way out of the ground. She can see Rathan standing on an icy boat, in among giant spires. Swimming over to him - which is surprisingly difficult through the waves and wind - she hauls herself aboard; ears plugged against the booms. They’re coming faster now. Like a drumbeat that’s slowly speeding up; dragging everything else along with it.

“What in blue silence is going on here?” she yells over the thunder, trying to listen to the essence-song of the coastline. It’s a cacophony; too confused to get anything from, and she’s pretty sure it’s changing even as she listens to it.

... no, wait. There are two chords she recognises; threading through every part of the onslaught of noise.

Confinement. And _anger_.

“It’s all Echo’s fault!” Rathan shouts back at his mother. “Heave ho!” he shouts at his sailors. “Raise the mainbrace! Splice the sails! Heft the anchor!”

It does appear that Rathan does not actually know much about sailing and is just shouting nautical words that Keris has heard. Either that, or he doesn’t know the official words for bits of the ship and is just inventing his own meaning for them - because his keruby do seem to be doing the right things to avoid the spires of rock.

“Hang back from the shore!” Keris shouts, giving him a quick hug and a kiss. “Be ready to make land once this all dies down! I’m going to take a closer look!” She throws herself over the side and runs across the water, fleet-footed, into the developing maelstrom. The booms are like a heartbeat now, and she’s not too far off where they’re coming from. It’s deep, but she wants to see what’s right above it. Maybe if she helps get it out, she can put a stop to this.

_Boom_. _Boom_. _Boom_. The thunder underground makes Keris teeth ache and her head hurt. The flashes are blinding.

And she realises suddenly that each boom is making a corresponding flash. Each boom is _calling down_ a flash from the sky - and they’re all hitting the same giant brassy mountain.

She turns towards it, pulling out her Lance again, vaguely aware of a gathering glow in the clouds above her and a brief pause in the pounding, and...

Time slows. Keris actually _sees_ the shockwave travel through the mountain like a ripple through water; cracks appearing in its wake and chunks floating out with the deceptive unstoppable slowness of lava. As her head turns upwards like it’s moving through treacle, she sees a bolt as wide as a treetrunk emerge from the cloud cover, drifting lazily down to meet the fracturing metal peak.

Keris flares her soul. Shifts herself into untouchable wind. Time restarts. And the entire mountain explodes.

Globulets of molten metal spray everywhere. It’s a glowing rain falling from the heavens. Between each falling droplet of molten metal, Keris can see lightning arcing.

The world is so loud she can barely think. Only react - react to avoid the hellscape around her.

And then the blast wave hits. She’s sent flying, screaming; a glowing comet hurtling through the air and coming down with a crash in the white froth of the wave that surges out from the shore. Spinning head-over-heel in the water, dizzy and half-blinded and mostly deaf, it takes her a moment to get her bearings and another several moments to work out which way is up.

That one is rather helped when something crashes into her back and wraps childish arms and a curtain of hair around her chest, dragging her upwards and onto a surprisingly-intact ship.

“Mama!” Rathan shouts over the fading thunder. Apparently Keris isn’t the only half-deafened one. “What _was_ that? I had to split a giant wave in half!”

Shaking her head helplessly, Keris looks over at the coast. The clouds seem to be dispersing, and the booming has stopped. She gestures at Rathan to take the ship in closer to the shore.

“Echo is going to be in _so much trouble_ ,” Rathan says seriously, as they sail. There’s no gloating there - just a cold and bitter promise. “She nearly really hurt you! And my ears are hurting so yours must be _super-hurting_.”

All around her, the landscape is a nightmare. There’s clouds of scalding hot steam everywhere, and the thick black clouds are still overhead, though the lightning is much more infrequent. Looking over the side, Keris can see the hellish glow of the red-hot lumps of metal underwater, releasing their steam geysers.

“It’s as bad as when Hanny has a tantrum,” Rathan says, crossing his arms. There’s soot on his face and smudges all over his little captain uniform, and he looks scared of all the fire and molten metal around. It’s even worse on land, where there’s lava flows and metal flows hitting the water and making more steam.

“I’m not sure that was Echo,” she replies. “Her hearing is as good as mine; that must have hurt her too. No... I think you might have a new sibling. I think that might have been them being born.” She hugs him back and stands, a little wobbly. “I’m pretty sure it’s dying down. Do you want to come with me to see, or stay with your ship just in case? You can ride on my shoulders if you want.”

“It was Echo,” Rathan says firmly. “None of it would have happened if she hadn’t started stabbing the ground.” He looks nervous for a moment. “And, uh, I think I want to stay on the water. Just in case more volcanos start blowing up. I’ll be here so you can g-get on board and we can run away from it!”

“That’s a good idea,” Keris says, nodding seriously. “I’ll be sure to come back here so you can protect me if the booming starts up again.” She kisses him on the forehead and adjusts his captain hat a little, then slips over the side of the ship into the water.

The swim to the shore is mostly spent rubbing her ears and swearing. At least with her soul burning she heals fast, because she’s pretty sure both her eardrums burst from how loud that explosion was. There was certainly a trickle of blood in the water when Rathan grabbed her.

Keris moves at a fair clip once she reaches land, hopping molten-metal flows and avoiding the more unstable-looking spires as she heads to... well, the huge crater where the mountain was. Before it exploded.

The mountain is just... gone. Not there anymore. In fact, it’s now an anti-mountain. There’s a spiral-shaped pit that goes down almost as far as the mountain went up. It’s lined with basalt and splattered with globules of molten and just-solidified metal.

And because it’s spiral shaped, there’s a path running down the interior. The air down here is nearly too hot to breathe and the rock would bake her feet, but if she moves quickly, it should be fun. Curiosity aroused - and on that note, Keris wonders where Echo is - she heads down the spiralling path, dodging the occasional drip of not-quite-solid-yet metal from higher turns. Down and down she heads, in among the steam and the heat and the sweltering air.

And down at the bottom of the pit she finds something. Or, rather, someone.

There’s a naked little boy, curled up in the foetal position. He looks to be five or six, no older, and though his skin is caked with dust and mud, it looks to be notably darker than Keris’ under all the muck. His long hair is so filthy she can’t even tell what colour it is. And as far as she can tell as she jogs in circles to avoid burning her feet, he’s fast asleep.

Very carefully, she darts in and picks him up in her hair, cradling him in an improvised hammock in front of her to better wipe the grime off his face and get a look at him. She absently starts retracing her path as she does; to get somewhere less hot and dangerous.

Though he didn’t seem too bothered by the heat. And indeed still doesn’t.

Up on the surface, Echo is waiting for her. Of _course_ Echo is waiting for her. She’s wrapped up in ribbons so thickly that Keris has to check twice that it’s really her and not some new species of demon. It’s especially notably around her head, which is nearly spherical from the fact she’s apparently tied her dress around her ears and then layered on all the protection she can fit.

Hi! she waves happily. So Keris managed to find her new brother, then, she gestures. She adds that she was _trying_ to keep him a surprise and she also tried to wake up him with Haneyl’s fire because he and Haneyl are full brother and sister like her and Calesco are, but she couldn’t find him and he’s really a naughty little baby for being so loud.

Keris’s eyebrows shoot up, and she looks down at her... new son, she supposes. If he’s Haneyl’s full brother, that would make his other parent...

It’s harder to see because he’s so much darker than Haneyl, but yes. Looking down at his face, Keris can see that her new son-soul is from the Realm and has the same stubborn chin and slanted eyes as Haneyl - even if his colouration is more like the vague memories that Keris has of her mother. Except it’s not quite that, either, because under the grime there’s a metallic sheen to his skin. Like it’s flesh, but it’s reflecting light like it’s brass.

And come to think of it, he is notably heavier than a five year old should be.

“... right,” she says. “Come on. We’ll go meet Rathan and then head up to Dulmea. I’d rather have this one clean and dressed by the time he wakes up. And we _are_ going to have a talk about you poking around more when I told you to stop.”

Echo spreads her hands innocently. It’s just that mama didn’t have the full information, Echo indicates. It was important to let him out as soon as possible, or else he’d have made an even _bigger_ boom and that would have been really not fun. Also, it would have ruined the collection of skulls she was building near the border who are laughing at Rathan.

Rolling her eyes, Keris heads out to the ship to pick up Rathan and return to Dulmea in the City.

“Oh!” Rathan says, a little hitch in his voice as he sees the little boy in Keris’ arms. “So I have a little brother!?” He sounds delighted.

“You do!” Keris grins, giddiness starting to creep up on her now that the maelstrom is mostly over. “He was trapped under the mountain, I think, and wanted to get out.” She wipes a little more of the grime off her new son’s face. “Under the circumstances, I think I can let him off for exploding it, since it didn’t actually hit me. Can you sail us over to the City to show him to Dulmea? And get him cleaned up a bit, since he’s all dirty.” She glances over at Echo with narrowed eyes. “And also have a talk about keeping important things secret, after he’s woken up and been introduced to everyone.”

But mama, Echo indicates, everyone keeps secrets from one another. Of course, if she wants Echo to tell her the truth about everything, she’ll have to let Echo into the tower when she’s getting kissy with Sasi. There is a wicked and slightly cruel smirk on her ribbon-lips.

Rathan, of course, is just fussing delightedly over his little brother. “I’ve wanted a little brother for so, so long,” he says happily. “There are way, way, way, way, way, way too many girls in here.”

Echo points out that everyone’s a girl in here, even Rathan, because they’re all part of mama.

It takes some wrangling to get them back to the City, but Keris does eventually manage it. With all three souls held in her hair - Rathan so that he can keep fussing over his new brother and Echo having demanded to join in - Keris trudges up to the Tower and lets herself in. Dulmea has already had a brass bath brought in from somewhere-or-other, which Keris slides the new arrival into. He’s still asleep, though not quite as dead to the world as when she found him. Breaking the mountain must have really tired him out.

“You should also clean yourself up,” Dulmea says snobbishly. “You’re smeared in basalt dust and you’ve got little blobs of metal caked onto your skin. Presumably from where you were splattered by molten metal.”

“I do?” Keris glances down at herself. “Oh yeah. Let me just...”

She slips into the bath as well, and starts busily getting both herself and her new son clean while Dulmea sets up a tea table. Rathan is cheerfully helping her, though he can’t quite fit in the bath himself, and Echo and Calesco seem to be having a quiet argument about something on the other side of the room.

By the time everyone is bathed, clean and in new clothes, though, the attention is back on Keris. Because her ninth soul is starting to stir.

Keris dresses him in simple white robes, on the grounds that they’re a) easy to put on, and b) he can come up with his own style later.

There’s been no sign of Haneyl, though. “She looks like him,” Calesco says glumly. “I don’t want another brother who’ll act like her.”

And then he opens his eyes. His eyes are just as bright as Haneyl’s, but while hers are a radiant green, his are a tawny orange-brown.

Keris is, she is rather happy to see, the first face he lays eyes on. She sees his gaze take her in, then flicker to Dulmea, his siblings, and all the nearby exits. She beams at him.

“Hello,” she says. “I’m Keris. How are you feeling?”

He stares gravely at her. And then gets up, and all on his own, stomps over to the table and starts eating, apparently ignoring her entirely.

... he is also apparently already entirely conversant with hair-eating. Somehow.

Keris wilts, staring after him in shock. She’s about to protest, when a thought makes her pause. Calesco could talk as soon as she was born, but she was born... older. This soul looks about the same age as Haneyl started - and it took her a while to learn how to speak.

“... can you talk?” she tries. “Do you have a name?”

He eats like a street rat, Keris realises. He’s stuffing his face like he hasn’t a good meal in days and his gaze jumps around like he’s afraid someone is going to steal his meal. He’s already stuffed some of Calesco’s home-made honey oatcakes down his front, for later.

She doesn’t have the heart to say in front of Calesco that he doesn’t want to take them, he wants to take something nicer.

Keris concentrates on him. On the feel of him, the way he’s eating, the metal-and-lightning song of his essence. She lets his name come, in the way that Calesco’s and Haneyl’s did, from deep inside without conscious thought.

“Vali,” she calls softly. “Vali, it’s alright. You’re safe here.”

He’s apparently not buying it. That, or as Keris is suspecting increasingly, he can’t speak yet. Though if he’s like she was when she was that kind of hungry, he’s not going to respond until his belly is full.

After all, he just made a mountain explode. He’s only five, and it knocked him out. He must be starving.

“He looks like Haneyl, but I don’t see any fire with him. Or plants,” Calesco observes. “But the clouds over his land are sort of like my tar, I think.”

“Malfeas and the Dragon,” Keris muses quietly. “And lightning, wherever that’s from. Interesting. Here, Vali.” Moving over to the table, she passes him a few plates that he can’t quite reach on his own - rich, filling food that will get his energy levels back up again if he’s hungry. “See? We’re all family here.”

Beaming, looking unusually innocent, Rathan sidles up to him. With a broad smile, he gives little Vali a hug and then starts helping to feed him and reloading his plate.

Vali glowers at him suspiciously, brow furrowing, but either the offer of food or Rathan’s Rathan-ness seems to win out.

“Well then,” Keris sighs. “Now I just have to work out how I’m going to explain this to Sasi.”


	14. Chapter 14

The sweltering heat is only getting more fierce. Keris swims through sky blue seas choked with sargasso, glad of the cool. It’s a chance for her to get to know her new soul-son.

Vali is a self-reliant little sort. He starts picking up his words within a day or so - or perhaps just relaxing enough to use them - but he still doesn’t chatter like the others. Rathan seems to have taken him under his wing, and Keris finds the two of them exploring the coastline of the Ruin and the Sea. In fact, at one point Keris gets told bluntly by Rathan that what’s going on is “boy stuff” and that she isn’t allowed here.

Keris doesn’t see what’s so “boy stuff” about them building a brass and ice shelter on top of one of the spires of basalt, but she leaves them to it. It’s good to see them getting along from the start. Hopefully it might even last.

Meanwhile, Haneyl still isn’t coming out of her ash circle. Keris is a little worried about her. She snuck in there, all unseen, wading through knee-deep ash-choked rivers. Haneyl is in the centre, and she looks... different. She’s even more colourless than usual, and even her brilliant green eyes are very nearly Sasi’s grey. She looks malnourished, too - street-rat-thin and ash coats everything about her. She’s just lying there in the circle, eyes open, staring up at the black sky.

When Echo tried to approach her, there was another fiery outburst, and Echo complains at length to Keris that some of her favourite ribbons got turned into ash. Echo does not like Haneyl when she gets too Ligierish but then runs out of fuel, she whines to her mother.

All this and more comes up in the tea ceremony Keris has with Dulmea, as they plan their next move.

“It is just over two months until Calibration, child,” Dulmea reminds her.

Keris hums thoughtfully. “I’m planning to head back early,” she says. “Maybe a week or so after Sasi. I want some time to myself in the Nests, and I’d like to ask Lilunu about why my Gales don’t work. But for now I’ve got a couple of weeks still until the misbegotten get to the Isle of Gulls.”

She cocks her head thoughtfully. “Well, first things first. I’ll tell the Baisha up to the Bu La Abyss and send a Messenger to calm Sasi down.” Outside her meditative state, her body is headed towards her ship already; skimming under the waves faster than any natural fish.

“Then I should probably go back to Saata and come up with a good excuse for Little River being off on her own for a while,” she continues. “Say the baby needs to be in a more Water-aspected environment until it’s born, maybe.” Her eyes light up. “Oh! And there are Wyld zones on the mainland, aren’t there? I might see if I can grab a few raksha sacrifices for the Shashalme and Lilunu as gifts.”

“Pleasing the Unquestionable is seldom a poor idea,” Dulmea agrees.

“And... I may give one to Haneyl, too,” Keris adds. “It might cheer her up a little to have a powerful, valuable gift. I don’t like the state she’s in at the moment.” She looks down guiltily and sips at her tea.

“When she burns, she becomes ash,” Dulmea says. She pauses. “Echo contributed that observation,” she adds, reluctantly.

“Mmm.” Keris sips some more tea, then looks up evaluatively. “Say, Dulmea?” she asks curiously. “I know that Echo and Rathan and Haneyl and Calesco all have keruby aspected to them. Vali will probably get his own. Even the po has those silver ones the girls found out in the fog. But I haven’t seen any of yours yet. Why is that?”

“I don’t know,” Dulmea says. “I have seen none. Perhaps only your children-souls can make them But then again, I do ban the keruby from the inner city in large groups because,” she sniffs, “they cause too much chaos in their dancing.”

Keris giggles. “Well, not all of them,” she points out. “I know Haneyl brings Elly around, and she’s not too bad. Though... she used to be a szelkerub, didn’t she? So she can’t shift again.” She pulls a curious arpeggio from the strands of Time and nods thoughtfully. “Hmm. Well, it might be worth keeping an eye on any friends of Rathan or Calesco that come to their lessons with them a lot. I’d be interested to see what a music-cherub would look like.” She flashes a grin and a wink. “Who knows? They might be able to help you keep the others in line.”

“More likely they’ll turn out to be able to play their own music and then they’ll never stop dancing,” Dulmea grumbles.

Keris laughs, and it’s with a light mood and a smile lingering on her lips that she arrives at the Baisha.

Given her temper the last time she was onboard, the crew seem extremely relieved at this.

“Further success in Agenete,” she tells Neride and the Priest in smug tones as she breezes up to the bridge. “The magistrate’s investigations are entirely fooled, and an entire Sworn Brotherhood of Dragonblooded will be wasting their time chasing false leads for the forseeable future. The Reclamation’s cover in An Teng has another layer of protection - the Realm’s eyes will be turned on outward threats that don’t exist.”

She declines to mention the part where she was captured, and instead gives a rather self-satisfied chuckle. “Mortals. So easily fooled. Now, Helmsman. We are still on-schedule to leave around the end of the first week of Crowning Fire, give or take a few days. Take the Baisha to the Bu La Abyss and hold position there. I will be obtaining a few small gifts for the Unquestionable - if I finish early, we will be crossing the Desert with Princess Sasimana onboard.”

“Very well, my lady,” the snake-demon says. She looks quickly at the priest. “I will be glad to return to the gracious All-Makers, away from the light of the traitor-Sun.”

After exchanging a polite nod and bow with the Priest, Keris sends Sasi a message to let her know that everything has been settled in Agenete, then stops off briefly at her quarters to pick up and drop off a few things. She isn’t initially planning on taking very long, but...

“Mum! Look!”

... a petal cherub ambushes her before she’s two paces through the door. He’s struggling to hold a large pot, from which a small sapling is growing. It’s almost as tall as he is, with grey wood and the same turquoise petals as his skin is made of.

Exactly the same, in fact. Even down to the shape.

“... I’m looking,” says Keris warily, cocking an ear to both kerub and plant. “And listening. What’s this?”

“I was running low on paper, so I had to think of other things,” Rounen says, as if that explained everything. “And the other you also helped.”

“... right.” Keris frowns. The essence-song of the tree sounds just like Rounen’s. Did he try to mimic the way her painting was made with her flesh? “So... what is it, exactly? Does it do anything?”

“It’s a tree of me,” he says. “It grows the best paper!”

“That’s nice...” Keris begins.

“Oh, and also it’s a hole back to the library in the City,” he says casually. “In case I want to read books that I don’t have here.”

Keris blinks.

“... a hole back to the... you worked out how to hop in and out of my soul! Rounen, that’s fantastic!” She hugs him. “How does it work? Wait, no... I think I see. It’s part of you, so you can... hop to it, if it’s in my soul and you’re near me?”

“I don’t really understand it,” Rounen admits. “The other you was the one who came up with it.”

Keris gives her painting a deeply suspicious look. Her painting doesn’t admit to anything, thought she does seem rather pleased with herself, and... oh!

“Vali!” Keris reads from her anima. It’s changed, apparently, and gained another name on the wheel behind her; between Echo and Rathan. “It must have changed when he was born,” she muses. “I’ll have to tell Lilunu. But for now, I’m going to head back to Saata. Shall I put that into my soul so you can come with me?”

Rounen gives it some thought. “Okay, mum,” he says. It’s interesting watching him jump into her Domain, Keris finds. Instead of using her hair as a gateway like Firisutu, he just dissolves into a cloud of petals that whirl in on themselves until there’s nothing left. Cissidy has apparently also worked out her own way of getting in - “galloping in a different direction” as she puts it - which looks similar. With the two of them riding along in her soul, Keris parts ways with the Baisha as it sets course northward and shoots towards Saata like a brightly-lit undersea comet.

It’s... it’s nice to be back to Saata. Keris arrives back right in the middle of a monsoon, and the white stone is actually clean for once as the rain hammers down on the solidly build buildings. In the half-gloom of midday, the lurid glowing paint on the dockfront buildings almost seems to float on top of the structures.

The first thing Keris does is she stops by a covered street food vendor, and buys a bit of everything. That’s something Saata does - food which is a mix of things. She’s got sweet-potatoes wrapped in dried seaweed and filled with a Tengese-hot fish paste.

Savouring them in her Little River guise as she makes her way into Hui Cha territory, she puts some thought into her excuse. “For the baby” is a fairly strong reason, she thinks. It helps that she’s back much earlier than she said she’d be, so she can play it off as having realised that her essence was more unbalanced than she’d thought, and that she needs to find a demesne to meditate in until she gives birth.

If they’re at all like Sasi, they’ll appreciate being informed ahead of time. And they do still owe her for all the silverwork.

Rathan makes a happy little noise in her head. “And they’ll think it’s all normal thanks to me!” he says gleefully. “See, Vali! This is how I help mama!”

“Mmm,” Vali says.

“And Vali helped me get here so fast,” Keris points out. The new level of speed she’s picked up; the bright-haloed _explosions_ of lightning-fast movement... she can’t sustain them passively and indefinitely the way she can her normal running, and has to exert herself a little to keep up that pace, but she can tell it’s linked to Vali’s lightning. “Thank you, both for your help, boys.”

“Why, thank you mama,” Rathan beams.

Vali just grunts.

It doesn’t take Keris too long to find her way to the silversmithing forge she claimed. From there she makes her way to Blue Blossom and then Little Bird, both of whom get intricately embroidered scarves as gifts before she settles down to explain her situation over tea.

“My goodness, this is a gorgeous piece,” Little Bird says, examining it. “I really can’t accept it. You’re far too generous.”

“Oh, you must!” Keris insists; Rathan’s light haloing her immaterially. “Please; it suits you beautifully.” She doesn’t push the conversation on to her early return too quickly, but instead waits for the subject to arise naturally from the small talk and pleasantries.

Little Bird - after some coaxing - accepts the gift. Both of them know that this puts Keris at an advantage over her, but of course it would be rude of Little Bird to not repay such a generous gift. Keris is getting the hang of this Tengese flow of doing things - it’s all about getting other people in your debt by offering the appropriate gifts. It’s probably because they’re all like a big family and if they don’t pay it back they’ll be in trouble. In Nexus you wouldn’t do it that way, because they’d just run off with your scarf.

So, after Little Bird shows off a new tattoo she’s got on her collarbone - a flowing, ornate prayer-devotion to the gods for good fortune in business which chimes with a minor thaumaturgical blessing - they drift through the conversation to what Keris wanted to say.

“I underestimated how unsettled my essence has become,” she says sadly, a gentle hand on her belly. “The stress of leaving An Teng and the time spent cooped up in my workshop with fire and silver and little to no Water, I suppose. The baby hasn’t yet been harmed, thank the Dragons, but if I’m to give it the best possible care, I should spend as much time as possible in essence-rich places until it’s born. A manse or demesne would be best - if not, then a place overwhelmingly dominated by Water.”

She sighs. “I’d hoped to take only a few weeks to centre myself, but I must think of the health of my child. I’m terribly sorry for any trouble I put you to, of course, but Saata’s essence is just too mixed for a Terrestrial pregnancy.”

“I had not heard that there was such a problem,” Little Bird says, sounding worried. She glances at Blue Blossom, who similarly looks concerned. “Might there be a doctor who we could get for you who might know more? I believe that the local Immaculates have a famed healer.”

Keris shakes her head. “I doubt it would harm the baby’s health to stay here,” she explains. “At least not in the way you’re thinking. Saata’s essence is mixed, but not unnatural. If I stayed, it might be healthy... but it would also almost certainly be mortal. The blessings of the Dragons would pass it by.

“The harm I’m talking about is more... spiritual.” She gives a little half-smile. “You’ve heard of how some Dragonblooded meditate in places that mirror their essence? The closer I am to Daana’d in my surroundings while I’m pregnant, the better the chance of the Dragons smiling on the child. You could ask the healer, but I’ve looked into it myself, and that’s what it boils down to. A place of power and a carefully tuned diet are like... the quality of the silver and tools, and how better ones make for a better piece.”

Keris purses her lips. “Also,” she adds in a quiet undertone as Rathan wraps her in innocent vulnerability, “I’m not sure I want word getting back to House Sinasana that I’m trying to raise the child’s chances of being blessed by the Dragons. At least not yet, until I have a chance to think it over.”

“I understand,” Little Bird says carefully. “I will certainly make your case to the family as best as I can.” She pauses. “Though, of course, if you have more of those gifts that I might pass to those who might, ah, be less persuadable, no doubt things would go better on your behalf. Where did you get such exquisite needlework?”

Keris beams. “Actually, this is my work,” she says proudly. “I was looking for manses or other places of power, happened across a master and found it interesting enough to study. These are some of my later, better efforts but I believe I have a few more of this quality somewhere, yes.” She pauses. “I will, of course, share such things with the Hui Cha upon my return. Silverwork is nice, but there’s more to craft than just metal, and I’ve found painting and music just as interesting.”

Blue Blossom sighs. “I wish I could make things like that,” she says sadly. “All your things are so elegant and proper. Ironwork seems so crude compared to your silver and now this.”

Keris lays a friendly hand on hers. “When I return, I’ll see if I can teach you,” she offers. “I seem to have a knack for learning arts and crafts, and if I can teach them as well, it will benefit us all twice over - both in beauty and in coin. And it would be nice to have friends who could help me with my projects. But you must show me how to work iron in return.”

The blacksmith smiles wryly. “My fingers are a bit clumsy for much good needlework,” she says. “I can repair clothes, but that’s about it.”

“Well, we’ll see. Silverwork at least,” Keris promises. “And maybe a few others who show promise or seem artistic, if you know of any.”

Little Bird folds her hands in front of her. “Are you suggesting you have learned some of the teaching techniques of the Dragon-kin?” she asks, eyes lighting up.

“Not yet,” Keris admits, “but I’m trying to. It’s something I can work on while I’m away - it will certainly come in useful when the little one is born - and which I intend to devote much of my time to.”

Words are exchanged. Hands are shook. And Keris gets the distinct feeling that, yes, compared to back in An Teng the women of the Hui Cha have rather more influence than the women of the old country.

Just as well, really. ‘Snot like she’s Sasi. Having to act through men all the time would be a mega-bummer.

Leaving a fair number of beautiful scarfs, quite a lot of ribbons (which Echo insisted on during practice) and a few more normal items of clothing, Keris moves on. She isn’t going out to some water demesne, though. No, for the first time she heads into the mainland that Saata is connected to. Shuu Mua, it’s called. The island of the mua.

In truth, the elements of Shuu Mua within sight of Saata are only a few kilometres of open water away, and they’re practically part of Saata’s territory. House Sinasana has the local lords paying tribute to them, because it keeps them safe from both the pirates of Saata and also angry Dragonblooded. As a result, a lot of Saata’s food that doesn’t come from the ocean comes from the cleared land and the rice paddies here.

Keris can see there are more ruins of similar designs to the ones in Saata around here, but they’re even more broken down. The whole area reminds her of some of the poorer bits of the Shore Lands of An Teng, in fact.

Once you get past the villages, though, you quickly hit tropical forest rising up the steep mountainside. There’s a beaten track leading up the sharp, jagged rockfaces, up what Keris hears is called Mt Rasra. There’s meant to be a boomtown up there, run by an agent of the Dynastic House Ragara who built the path up there and claimed it for the Realm.

Keris heads past it and keeps going. She’s looking for chaos-forged sacrifices; gifts and trinkets for the Unquestionable, and for that she’ll need to find Wyld Zones. Those will be deeper into the island than a stable Realm outpost; nestled among the fractured heights of the landmass where few men can travel.

Of course, few men have flying eight-legged horses to ride. In a place like this, anyaglo-back is honestly the easiest way to get around - sure, Keris is about as fast when she’s swimming, but the landscape of Shuu Mua goes up and down a lot. And from the air, she can see a lot more of it.

What Keris can see is that there are lots and lots of mountains and hills and craggy bits and bits which go down and lakes and mountains with flat bits on top. There are people in the valleys and on the flat bits, but everywhere else there’s just super-thick plants. She’s never seen a place so densely overgrown. Even the North East had giant trees with space between them, and this place looks less hospitable than the swamp in her soul. She feels even more like a city girl at present, but she suspects that people used to wilderness aren’t used to _this_ kind of wilderness.

Haneyl would probably like it, she thinks. It would be a _challenge_ to her; she’d be down there among the trees in a heartbeat; ordering them and taming them and claiming them.

Keris really wishes, sometimes, that she could summon her souls.

But alas, she cannot, and so she starts searching methodically; listening to the essence-songs of the trees and rivers and plateaus as Cissidy zigzags further inland; Rounen scribbling away where he’s seated in front of her.

((Cog + Travel))   
((3+0+2 stunt+3 Metagaos ExD {voracious hunter, predation, consumes everything}=8. Aww _man_. 1 sux : (.))

Sure are a lot of trees down there, Keris thinks. Lots and lots of trees. There are villages down in the flat bits, but the biggest population centres seem to be in valleys. That makes sense, right? There’s water down there.

UM, Cissidy signs to her, after some flying. LADY KERIS. I THINK WE ARE LOST. THE GREEN GOES ON LONGER THAN IT SHOULD, AND I CAN NO LONGER SEE THE MOUNTAIN I WAS GOING TO.

Keris thinks she’s lost, too. Sort of. Well, she can taste the air and it tastes... strange. Wyldish. She thinks she flew into a wyld-polluted place without noticing it. She’s not even sure when she did it. But she’s under a clouded, sunless sky, and the green vegetation stretches out a long way underneath. And then she sees a river, and its got a distinct pinkish tinge to it.

“Aww, hushbait,” she swears. “Take us down, Cissidy. I think we’re in one of those... you know, story places. Where something has to happen before you can move around. Lemme see...” She cocks an ear to the essence-song of the surroundings, listening for the beat of Creation’s heartbeat through the dragon lines. Keris can hear it. The land is warped and twisted and the pulsing throb of the dragonlines is like an open wound, bleeding out from where it should be.

((She’s in a bordermarch.))

“Yup,” she sighs. “We are. Right, this is... possibly a good thing, if we can go any deeper. And work out which way ‘deeper’ is. It might take us a few days, but that’s fine, we have a couple of weeks.”

((... plz no make me roll cog+travel again to work out which way is “in”. :c))   
((Roll Cog + (lower of Occult and Travel) : V ))   
((so mean~))   
((3+0+2 stunt+3 Metagaos ExD=8. OH COME THE FUCK ON. BOTCH. AN ACTUAL BOTCH. WHAT THE HELL, DICE FAIRIES? ARE YOU FRIENDS WITH THE WYLD FAERIES? FUCK YOU RAKSHA, STOP CHEATING!))

Keris decides that if she wants to go deeper, she should probably head up the pink-tinged river. She does it. As she heads up river, the pink comes to dominate. The trees and the leaves start to turn pink too, and there’s a sweet sugary smell in the air. She can hear distant music - sweet, beautiful songs. “Hah!” she crows. “Found ‘em. Alright, you two into the Domain; I can’t stab everyone with you in the way.” She cracks her knuckles. “I’m gonna armour up and get some pretty treats for people.”

Rounen and Cissidy dissolve into petals and ribbons as Keris brings out her armour, sliding into it and beginning the chants and prayers to awaken and attune to it. She really should work on it some more, she thinks. It still has those old powers that aren’t working because of the vitriol-tainting, and she hasn’t had many chances to put it to good use recently. Another thing to bring up with Lilunu, perhaps.

Once her armour is on, she pulls out her Lance and hungrily starts upriver; a silver shape flitting up along the bank towards the music. What is playing the music, Keris discovers quickly, is orchid-like plants growing on the trees. They sing sweetly, and also smell strongly of caramelised sugar and apples. Gathering a few of them and passing them into her Domain for Haneyl to look at, she continues on upriver, pouting slightly. She inhales the scent as she plucks them. They really do smell delicious. Gods, it’s like some took an apple and made it better.

((Compelling Principle of “Apples are the Best”))   
((Which is balanced with her Temperance. WELP. ROLL TIME.   
Apples: 2 dice; 1 sux.   
Temperance: 2 dice; _4_ sux, wow.))

Ha ha ha. Keris laughs out loud at that. There’s no way she’s going to trust food from a place like this. She does enjoy the scent of the apple-orchids as she passes them into her Empire, but she’s not foolish enough to take a bite out of one.

“Dulmea, have someone take them to Elly to take to Haneyl, would you?” she asks. “With a message to explain what they are and where they came from and so on. Maybe they’ll interest her a bit.”

“I will take it myself,” Dulmea says curtly. “My patience is wearing a little thin with her. Her behaviour right now is entirely unacceptable for one of my students.”

“Um...” Keris debates getting involved, but decides that Dulmea probably knows what she’s doing. Hopefully. “Good luck?” she offers. “Try not to let her burn down any more of the Marsh. I’ll keep following the river. There must be Wyld-things _somewhere_ along here.”

Keris wanders, utterly lost in the sweet-smelling landscape. She’s wondering if she might have completely missed when she stumbled in here, because things feel... deeper than they should be. But the entire place is full of the song of the flowers and the music of the wind - but nothing bigger.

She skips over tar-like mud that tries to ensnare her and vaults up shivering trees that moan gently when she passes over them, but still, nothing.

Sighing in annoyance, Keris responds with her usual strategy when stumped, which is to start breaking things. Her anima flares. Mud pools are consumed in green flame, leaving only grey-white ash behind. Trees topple, and the scarlet ocean-whirlwind blazes around her.

“Come _on!_ ” she yells. “Isn’t there anything _living_ in here? Come out and fight me!”

Little things rustle in the undergrowth and Keris hears the squawking of birds she doesn’t recognise. And there it is, a human gasp. Or at least a human-like gasp, up ahead.

Keris bursts through a veil of delicate pink plants which wither and die into black sludge, and finds herself standing next to a cenote. There’s a pit where bright pink fluid pools down in a rocky depression. And there’s someone down at the bottom.

It’s a woman, whose teal skin stands out utterly from the pinkness all around. She’s not conventionally beautiful - her mouth is a little too wide, her tongue a little too long, and as Keris’ mind whirs, she realises that there’s entirely something frog-like about her. Yes, that’s it. Her limbs are too long, and the way she squats down at the water’s edge, in the shallows - she’s a frog, in some way.

“Who are you?” Keris’s eyes flash green as she takes the woman in. “Also, _what_ are you?” It only occurs to her belatedly that there’s a fair chance the woman won’t understand Old Realm. She smells... strange. She’s not a creature of the wyld - not entirely. But she is a lot of one. Part divine and part wyld. And she’s pathetically weak.

((Mixed divine and wyld essence, Enlightenment 3))

Keris grumbles in annoyance. It’s not worth the time it would take to crystallise the heart of something this week. Though if she’s some sort of tainted god...

“Where are the powerful ones?” she asks. “The lords and ladies of the Wyld? Chaos princes.”

The frog-woman flinches and falls over. She moves to protect herself, arms raised to cover her head. Cowering, she protects herself while squinting up at the burning figure looking down at her from the top of the cenote.

“What are you?” she croaks. She sounds old. “Burning soul, yes, yes. There’s a word for that. Tip of my tongue. Top of my tongue.”

She lets her long tongue fall out of her mouth. After staring at it for some time, she seems to remember Keris is there.

“Burning soul girl, this isn’t a safe place. Isn’t a safe place at all. Have to protect the pool. Keep the waters clean. Keep the sickness out. And I did it! I did it! The sickness is all gone! The healing waters can cure the plague. I drank it and I’m fine and I didn’t die unlike everyone else!” She claps her hands together. “Everyone died and I didn’t and then things went wrong and the princes came and they did their things and then they left but I kept my pool safe! Look how clear it is. Burning soul girl, do you want to drink from the healing waters? It’ll keep you safe from the plague!”

Keris’s annoyance drains away like the water from the pool; replaced by pity. This goddess isn’t just old, she’s _old_. Old enough that she remembers the Contagion. She must have seen everyone else die around her and retreated to the only thing she knew. Even to the point of madness.

“It’s a beautiful pool,” Keris tells her gently, dismissing her Lance. “The sickness and plague are long gone, and you and your pool are still safe. You did well.”

The frog goddess scratches her head. “Any chance for a prayer, burning soul girl?” she asks hopefully. “My worshippers haven’t come in a long, long time. Sometimes people come up but they drink the water and then they become something else.” She blinks with her eyes which aren’t the same colour - and the third eye in her cheek. “I think I might be seeing things, that I see people turn into things. It’s so hard to tell what’s what. The songs get to you, sometimes. They just don’t stop. And they sink and sing and,” she starts to croon, singing the same tune the plants are singing.

Sighing, Keris looks around. If this old goddess is here protecting her pool, she doesn’t think it’s likely that there’s anything else worth fighting in this wyld zone. “A prayer if you point me the way out of this place of danger,” she agrees. “What’s your name, honoured grandmother? I’ll sing a hymn for you. A new song.”

The old goddess stares up at her. “... don’t remember,” she says eventually. “I’m sure I had one. I think one of the chaos princes ate it, when he supped on my valour.” She laughs, shrill and mad. “I wonder what happened to him. His valour got even bigger after he ate mine! And what a valour it was!”

Keris quietly reaffirms her plan to cut the heart out of any true chaos prince she finds on the isle, and then starts playing the strands of Time. She picks out the notes of divinity in the frog-goddess’s essence; ignoring the chaos and trying to reconstruct what her essence must have sounded like before the taint. A prayer-hymn to the goddess she used to be, and who she still remembers being.

The old god sits there, slumped down. Slowly, she sags further. Keris can hear her crying, softly.

“Old one?” Keris whispers softly, unwilling to disturb her but also rather wanting directions out. “The way out of this place?”

“I don’t know,” she whispers. “I’ve tried to get out. I try to forget but I _have_ tried. The rivers are a loop. Start at the end and you’ll go to the beginning and back again. It’s all twisted up. If only I could _think_. The singing makes it hard. It’s so tiring. And I’ve been hungry for a very long time. I want something, but I don’t know what.”

“... would you like to try again?” Keris asks. “Come with me. I can at least get you out of this place. What you do from then on is up to you.”

“I don’t know,” she says softly. “I don’t know what to do.”

Keris takes a moment to consider. She’s going to be getting out of the Wyld Zone anyway. She can’t fix whatever’s wrong with this goddess; can’t flense away the taint of the Wyld that’s wound its way into her - and that’s maybe something she should think about learning, she realises. Sasi can, after all.

But it costs her nothing to help the old woman out, and being in this place is torture for her. And hey. It might result in a friendly goddess. That can’t be a bad thing.

“Well,” Keris says, and her voice is no longer soft and gentle. It’s firm and strong and confident now; determined and undeniable. “I _do_ know what to do. So you’ll come with me, and I’ll get us both out of here, and then you’ll be free to do as you wish. Come on.” She holds out a hand, boring down on the frail little figure with her will. “I’ll play to help you think. You won’t get lost this time. My name is Keris. You can trust me.”

The old woman squirms. “No, no, no,” she moans. “You came from nowhere... what if you’re not a burning soul person but you’re one of them? And if you are, your soul’ll burn me!” She backs away from Keris’ anima.

“I came from outside to hunt the chaos princes,” Keris says. “If I were one of them, I couldn’t have prayed to you, and I wouldn’t have a burning soul. Come with me and I’ll see you safely out, my lady. Stay here when I go and you’ll never leave.” She pauses. “You can leave my side at any time,” she adds. “And you needn’t touch my soul while it’s burning.”

((Yeah, Keris is sympathetic but not willing to waste too much time here. If the goddess refuses, she’ll go, though she’s being Malfean/Kimberian and authoritatively going “I’mma show you kindness and help you out”. Heh. The ripples of Vali’s birth are still weighting her actions.))

The old frog-goddess flinches. “I... I...” she swallows. “If you’re one of them, there’s... n-nothing you can do to me you haven’t done before. Even tell me you’re letting me go free,” she whispers. “Maybe you’ll k-kill me. I’m thinking m-more clearly than normal.”

“Because of my prayer,” Keris agrees with firm patience. “Because I’m not one of them. There’s nothing new I can do to you if I’m lying, but you have so much to gain if I’m telling the truth. Now, are you coming or not? I’m setting off.” She takes a small step back from the edge of the cenote - enough to make it clear she’s about to leave.

Slowly, achingly she climbs out, hopping from rock to rock. Flinching, twitching, she trails behind Keris.

“The rivers don’t work,” she repeats to Keris. “Don’t work. I don’t know how my pool is still clean when they’re like they are.”

Keris nods. “Then we follow the trail I cut on my way in,” she decides. “And mark our path as we go. I figure if I set enough of this place on fire, it’ll spit us out just to stop me wrecking it.” She wrinkles her nose. “Or I could get us out the fast way. But that’s a last resort.”

She sets off at a slow pace that the old goddess can keep up with, tasting the essence of the area and slashing at the occasional tree or sinking-mud patch. Her soul is dwindling a little, she notices. Soon it’ll die down to just her caste mark. Her hair plucks out a marching song from the air as they walk; Keris in front, the goddess following cautiously behind.

Keris puts together some things and pales. Everything got weirder after she smelled the flower. Maybe that pulled her in. So she needs to find some kind of exit too - not just running around.

And she notices that there are things on the trees which suggest that someone else has been plucking the flowers.

She plucks another one as she walks; this time keeping it at hair’s length and carefully not breathing while she examines it. If the flowers are the way in, maybe they’re the way out as well? This Wyld Zone seems to be set up like a trap, so that things can get in but not out. She doubts it’s up to the task of holding an Exalt.

As far as Keris can tell, it’s ‘just’ a flower. A flower that’s partook of the wyld and which has a strange scent and which is covered in little sighing hairs, but it’s a flower. It sounds a lot like sugar cane in some ways - Keris is sure it’s just packed with sugar.

But she doesn’t think the flower is the way in itself. Maybe smelling it, or listening to its song was what pulled her deeper in. She bites her lip thoughtfully and turns her attention to the melody that she can still hear beneath the strong notes of her own marching song. The song itself doesn’t sound special. But as Keris listens, she hears the same song - or, rather, a conjoining melody elsewhere in the area. Sprinting up a tree and looking around, she thinks it’s coming from a small hill with what looks like heavily overgrown ruins on it.

“ _Right_ ,” she growls. “Old one? I think I just found what’s keeping us here. Let’s go break it.” Cracking her knuckles, she pulls her Lance into her hand and sets off toward the hill, her hair rising into three hungry scorpion-tails behind her. The old woman hurries behind her, hopping from place to place. Before she gets there, though, Keris hears other creatures moving around the ruins. She thinks she may have found where the chaos princes dwell in this place. Her grin flashes a mouthful of shark teeth to the world, and the blank silver plate of her mask slams down; her caste mark burning just above the surface. Her head turns slowly from side to side as her hair-tendrils dip and sway above her, and beneath her armour her eyes flash green.

They sound like a mixture of beings. There are many different notes to the chaotic ensemblance of nearly a hundred lifeforms she can hear from in there. All of them sound of the wyld, yes, but there’s quite a lot of hybrid notes.

Most of them are pathetically weak, and even their wyld essence is weak and confused. But there’s a mix of slightly stronger ones in the centre. Some of them sound also a bit like gods, others a bit like elementals, and there’s one that sounds pure raksha and is notably stronger than all the rest.

((Most of the sounds are Enlightenment 0-1, wyld aspected. In the centre, there’s a few 2-3 god-wyld hybrids, there’s a fire-wyld at Enlightenment 2, several wood-wyld ones at enlightenment 3-4, and one Enlightenment 6 wyld-aspected thing.))

Keris all but sings in glee. She spares enough time to toss a “keep back and stay safe!” over her shoulder before charging at the chaos prince, Lance out and blood surging. She springs from rock to rock, vaulting her way up the sweetly smelling pink treeline. As she crests the ridge, she can see scattered men and women with solid pink eyes - and extra eyeballs on their cheeks - sitting around the overgrown ruins. Their expressions are flushed and vacant, and she can see they’re chewing on the flowers. Around them are smaller gibbering things that look like animate plants, all bud-faces lined with teeth and vine arms.

Her goal is the strongest thing; the thing the flowers and song are presumably coming from. It’s not any of these things though, she thinks. They’re wyld-twisted madmen and little wyld creatures, not anything with real power. They look off their faces from the euphoric flowers. She heads on, bounding upwards and onwards towards the ruins. She knows she’s outpacing the old goddess - and that her anima is flaring to bonfire-brightness again - but she’s too eager to find her prey to slow down. And honestly, she fights best alone.

In the centre of the old ruins - which now that she looks at them more closely look like they’re made of lumps of sugar mortared together with honey - Keris finds where the powerful creatures here reside. There’s an abandoned amphitheatre which now seems to be the centre of this place.

There, a fire elemental who burns pink-purple and looks like someone glued two horses together burns the crops, filling the air with the sweet-smelling smoke.

There, wyld-tainted madmen that look like they’re half bee buzz around their hive, gathering up flowers.

There, a trio of things that were once wood elementals but now are much more akin to a chaos prince cavort with one another, upon a great bed of reeds and vines.

And in the centre, in a pool in the middle of the amphitheatre, sprawls the most powerful presence Keris felt. They’re pale-pink skinned with six brilliant purple eyes and graceful horns which curl back and flow like hair. The chaos prince is obviously neither male or female, but partakes of aspects of both as they bathe in the hip-deep pool. There are a few of the wyld madmen in the pool with them, and even now they share a pipe filled with the flowers, only adding to the smoke.

And in the seats of the ruined amphitheatre, the walking wyld-plants grow and they’re the ones singing. A few of them pluck on stringed instruments, while others blow into great mournful horns.

Deep within Keris’ soul, her po shifts and hisses with desire at the sight of all the indulgence and decadence on display here. The raw want from that intrudes into Keris’ mind.

She crests the edge of the amphitheatre like a blazing comet and advances as unstoppably as a falling star; intent on the raksha at the centre of it all.

She doesn’t want to kill it, though. She wants to _own_ it. To tears its heart out and forge it into a trinket and claim its things. To make it pay, and prove she’s better.

Her gaze bores into the raksha prince as it stands. Into the ground at its feet. Into the flowers in its pipe. They burst into sudden growth - and it’s not sweet-smelling orchids that put down roots and sprout, but a tangle of razor-sharp thorns and snarling vines. All around the hermaphroditic decadent chaos-prince grey-tinged plants bloom. They rip out of the pipe, they explode from the pollen in mid air, and the lotuses floating in the pool become hungry thorn-rimmed mouths. Suddenly everything within a good four metres of the decadent one is thorns and toothed lotuses and all manner of such things.

From within the thorns, there’s a cry of pain. Keris sincerely hopes that the thorns got them in a sensitive place.

Still, there’s a flare of light and Keris can see that the creature can still move freely. It’s drawn a pair of crystalline purple blades from nowhere and is carrying one in each hand, hacking away at the thorns and brambles as it tries to free itself from the mess.

It can’t, though. The barbed things are keeping it penned in and though it’s making progress as it hack away, the hungry barbs of Metagaos confine it still.

((Heh. This landscape is about as colour-tasteless as Keris.))   
((I resemble that remark!)

Keris takes a gigantic running leap from her position on the amphitheatre’s slopes to come down on the now-plant-filled pool. She lands in the thorny tangle, which obediently bends out of the way to let her through, and is up and running in a quick roll. Her Lance comes around in an arc - not the blade, but the weighted ball at its other end, painted in deep greens and violets. With all the force of Keris’s fall and the full leverage of the Lance’s length behind it, it whips through the vines almost too fast for them to avoid on a collision course with the raksha’s ribs.

The dancing chaos prince manages to get a blade in the way of the blow - but no, Keris is too fast and the weighted ball whips past the guard and slams around. It slams into the Raksha’s jaw, and it goes down like a poleaxed cow. Onto, Keris notes with a slight wince, some tooth-like barbs. Its purple-pink skin is peeling away from the flensing winds of her anima.

((HL filled with bashing, Raksha drops. Then takes another 1L from the environmental damage. And another 2L from Keris’ anima.))

Keris diverts to snatch the prone thing up and hurl it out of the vines and onto relatively safe ground - or at least, ground where it won’t die before she can cut its heart out. She spares a glance around her at the Wyld-tainted things that comprised its court. The fire fae thing doesn’t seem to care - it’s probably just as drugged by the smoke it’s burning. The wood-elementals seem rather more shocked, though and their bedroom activities are rather interrupted.

The gods are just running away.

Once the raksha is dumped just outside the snarling plants, Keris lets herself skid to a stop - far away enough that her anima isn’t killing it. She’ll wait for it to die down to just her caste mark and then soak the thing in addictive venoms and claim it as hers. And until then, she can knock out a few of the elementals for later heart-crystallising.

... it does occur to her, belatedly, that she’s not sure how much outside-time she’s been here for. Time runs strangely in places like these, after all. It’s probably not been the full two weeks, but... she really has no way to tell. Drat. She’ll have to hop quickly back to Saata to check how long it’s been once she’s finished.

Well, it’s something she’ll have to deal with once she’s out of here, she thinks as she cuts off the wood elementals escape and puts them down with a couple of vicious smacks. The fire elemental doesn’t even put up a fight - honestly, she’s not even sure she needs to knock it out.

She still does, of course, and cocks an ear for the old frog goddess as it drops prone.

The old goddess is hiding, from the sounds of it. In fact, it sounds like she’s slowly trying to go back to her cenote. Rolling her eyes, Keris jogs back up the amphitheatre slope to catch up to her. The raksha are down and staying that way for a while, and it shouldn’t take long to retrieve the goddess.

“Old one!” she calls as she catches up. “Old one, it’s alright. The chaos princes are beaten. It’s safe to come up. We’re still getting out of here.”

“Are they? Are they?” she whispers. “You went in - into the place where they do the things. And you didn’t come out. And then when you come out you look the same, not even tired or... or anything - which means you must be doing it with _them_.” She’s crying again.

Keris holds up her Lance and slides her helmet back. Spots of blood mark its weighted end where it smashed into the raksha’s jaw. “I’m not with them, old one,” she says firmly. “I fought them. I crushed them. Come and see - they’re lying prone; beaten and broken. I’m a burning-soul girl, remember? Nothing can stand against me when I fight.” She beckons to the old goddess. “Come and see. Just to the top of the ridge. You’ll see that they’re beaten.”

((Per + Pres))   
((3+5+3 Prince of Hell Style+2 stunt+4 Malfeas ExD=17. 13 sux. Keris is a burning-soul girl. She’s not tired because to her, killing chaos princes is a normal Marsday.))

The dead wyld barbarians and slain poppets around the edge of the amphitheatre seem to do enough to convince her of Keris’ bona fides when Keris coaxes her back to follow her. In fact, she takes great pleasure in grabbing a rock and beating on the dead wyld-creatures. The inside of the amphitheatre is even more convincing. The central pool is a tangle of wicked vines, and the chaos prince lies bleeding and prone beside it; its beautiful skin torn. Keris smiles to see the expression on the goddess’s face at the sight, though she nudges her away from the unconscious elementals and raksha when she goes for them. “I have plans for them,” she says in quelling tones. “They deserve much worse than a rock. Much, much worse.”

She does pick up the raksha’s swords, though, and after thoughtfully twirling them to test the balance she offers them to her new companion.

Once her anima has died back down to just her burning caste mark, she sits herself down beside the chaos prince and allows poisons she’s only used twice before to well up in her hands. Poisons of dependence, of addiction, of control and need and longing. Deep pink-red swirls appear on her skin, and she lets it suffuse into the raksha again and again until she tastes it take.

That done, she keeps an eye on it as she starts carving open the elementals.

“I remember... that one,” the frog-goddess croaks, staring at one of the wood elemental-fae things. “It... both, before, and after. They... they started doing what the fae did. Cold mouths. Empty mouths. So much h-hunger. Eating away at the mind.”

“Do you want to watch me carve their hearts out?” Keris asks. “They deserve it, for what they did. They’re parasites. And I can make something useful out of them.”

“Yes,” she says, softly but firmly.

Keris brings Ascending Air out with a flicker of red lightning. “Vali?” she says before she starts some practical sorcery. “I don’t want the raksha running off if it wakes up before I start. It’d ruin the ritual or it’d just get away and start this up again. Could you be a sweetheart and make me some iron to chain it up with?”

“What are you going to do with it?” he asks slowly. “Chaining up people is _bad_.”

“Yes,” she agrees. “Chaining up people is. Raksha, though? They’re not people. They eat people. They eat minds and souls and dreams. They twist people’s bodies and trap them in their story-places and use them and never give anything back, ever. They’re not like people. They’re not like animals. They’re not gods or demons. They’re parasites, and the world is better off without them.”

“Hmm.” There is a tearing sound of metal, which goes on for several minutes. “Fine,” he finally answers. “I made it for you. But I don’t like what you did to it. You used ‘Mea drugs and Hanny mind-taking-overness.”

Keris has the hand-forged iron chain passed to her. It appears to literally be hand-forged - he’s taken bits of metal and bent them into shape with his bare hands, heating the metal with his thunder.

“Thank you, Vali,” she says. “I don’t like using those drugs very much either. I won’t use them on people.” She wraps the chain around the chaos prince in quick, efficient loops; binding its arms and legs and wrapping her hair through the trailing end. Then she gets down to the business of the elementals; the frog goddess her avid audience.

Halfway through the first one, while she’s carving runes into the chest of one of the wood elementals, the raksha princeling wakes up, its jaw broken. She can tell from the way she can’t understand when it tries to talk to her. She ignores it and keeps going, shooting the frog goddess a warning look when she hefts her new swords. She can talk to it once she’s finished - and get Rathan to help.

Eventually, after what feels like half a bloody day, Keris reaches into the chest of the last wood elemental and tears out its heart. Crushing it down in her fist, sweet sap runs down her arm as she squeezes on the gem. The elemental screams out its last as Keris gives thanks to the Yozis and the surge of demonic power calcifies its heart as a little gem. It looks almost like emerald, but it sparkles with a rainbow of different colours from within. It’s about the size of a little fingernail, and it’s the largest of the ones she’s got from the maddened twisted elementals. She weighs it thoughtfully. The other two are in her Domain with Dulmea, ready to be given to Haneyl. But this one...

“Here,” she says quietly, offering it to the frog-goddess. “I think you deserve this one. They took bits of your soul from you. Now you can have one of theirs. To keep as a reminder, once we leave this place.”

The goddess takes it in her twisted, wizened hands. “I d-don’t know what I’ll do,” she says weakly. “I never thought this day would come.”

“Find a place for yourself,” Keris says. “Make a life. Perhaps you’ll see me again when I come back to this isle. Whatever the future holds, it can’t be any worse than the past.”

She turns to the raksha. “And as for you,” she hums. “Cissidy?”

Ribbons fountain out of the air next to her as the ribbon-horse emerges. Keris picks the raksha up without much ceremony, resets its jaw with plate-clad fingers and slings it over Cissidy’s back.

“You’re coming with me,” she tells it firmly. “Time to leave.”

“Am I meant to come?” the goddess asks vaguely.

“Yes,” Keris reminds her. “We’re leaving this place and going somewhere safer. Back to proper Creation.” She sets off, Rounen at her heels. Now that the raksha’s melody is gone, it shouldn’t be too hard to find the way out.

((Cog + Travel))   
((Grrr. Can I apply CCC to _get out of this freaking bordermarch?_ ))   
((Yes! Yes you can! You’re trying to escape confinement. CCC is _super good_. In fact, you’re Enlightenment 9, so you can spend 1wp to auto-succeed.))   
((I will do so.))

Marching off with a low growl - and immolating every flower she notices with green fire as she goes - Keris bulls forward with the full intent of _cutting_ her way out if the Wyld Zone presents her with any more obstacles. Rounen, Cissidy and the goddess appear to pick up on her impatience, and stick carefully to her immediate wake as she stomps and slashes her way along the pink-tinged river. Insight hits, from somewhere dark and oozing inside her might. It’s the smell that drew her in. Therefore, escape the smell and she’ll escape. The world warps and suddenly she sees the way out, through the flames of burning petals from the many fires she’s set.

Keris steps through the fire, and emerges back out in the merely tainted land where the trees are still green and there’s only a hint of pink in the water. The sun is setting in the west and her silver demonic figure reflects the red light.

She’s so glad there’s no pink around.

“ _Finally_ ,” she sighs happily. Then, after a glance at the frog goddess, she adds “Even more so for you than for me, I guess. We’re back in Creation. No chaos princes here.”

The old goddess falls to her knees. She stares to the West. “I... I haven’t seen the sun in so long,” she croaks. “Praise the sun.”

Keris wrinkles her nose at that, but lets it go. “Get away from this place,” she advises. “Far enough that you won’t wander back in there by accident. And...” She pauses. “Do you want to choose a name? You lost your old one, and now you’re free. If you want to rename yourself, I’ll bear witness.”

“It’s... there has to be a place which remembers who I was,” she says. “So, no. No new names. I have to find who I was.” She wets her lips. “Nomi. I used to work for... for Nomi. I’ll find her. She’ll remember.”

Keris isn’t sure that she will - or even that she still exists - but it’s not hers to decide. The goddess is free now. Her life is her own.

She glances down at the chained raksha prince and then at Cissidy. “Rounen, you better come back in,” she says quietly. “I’m not sure Cissidy can carry all three of us. And I better put my armour away, too.” Peeling out of it and passing it to Dulmea through her hair as Rounen dissolves into petals, she faces the goddess unarmoured for the first time.

“Good luck then, old one,” she says warmly, mounting Cissidy. “I hope you find all you seek. Goodbye.”

The goddess laughs. “You’re m-much less scary like that,” she croaks. Keris grins and waves as she and the ribbon-horse rise into the air, setting course back towards Saata. Once they’re up and moving properly, she leans forward.

“Land us near the coast,” she orders. “I’ll have a chat with our prisoner and send Neride a Messenger. Then you can take it up to meet them at the Bu La Abyss while I go sort out the misbegotten.”

Once they land, Keris heaves the raksha off Cissidy’s back and sits it up against a tree. Calling on Rathan’s light to halo her in innocence and love, she squats down in front of it.

“Can you talk?” she asks.

((Activating Carmine Mantled Emissary for 10m, 1wp. Hee. “The first time in any day another character attempts to remember any way which they have been wronged or offended by the Infernal, they have to beat the Infernal’s roll to do so”.   
CME Roll is Per+Pol: 3+1+2 stunt+4 Kimmy ExD+5 Enlightenment autosux=10. 5+5=10 sux.))

The raksha blinks its many eyes. “Oww,” they moan in Old Realm.

“Are you alright?” Keris asks with fairly convincing innocence. “Here, let me look at that.” Slipping a few roots into its cheek, she eases the pain a little. “Will you come with me? I can take you to someone who can supply you with all the drugs and pleasure you can imagine.”

“What happened?” they ask. “Someone... someone attacked me. How did I get here in the Realm of Stasis?”

“Your realm was destroyed,” Keris tells it, realising belatedly that given how it was slung over Cissidy, it probably doesn’t realise that she’s the silver thing that attacked it. “I’m sorry. I can take you to a new home - a place where you can relax and indulge yourself again.” She cocks her head, considering it - and judging how much it would give to be in a place of decadence again.

“Who are you?” they ask softly. “Argh! Why am I chained up?!” They seem to have just noticed the iron chains.

“Whatever attacked you must have done it,” Keris explains. “I could help you get loose...”

((Activating Price-of-Everything Undercurrents to judge the value of “freeing it from the iron chains” and “taking it somewhere it can indulge itself on pleasurable things” as services. 2m.))   
((Being free of the iron chains would be worth vast amounts to it - that’s a Resources 5 service.))   
((As for the indulgence, that’s a notable service - Resources 3 or so.))

“I have a ship,” Keris tells it. “Swear to sail with me on it for a time - a month and a day - and I will free you of your chains and take you to a place where wealth and luxuries flow like water.”

“Well,” they say. “Swear not to harm me, and I agree.”

“I swear that I will not harm you,” Keris says formally. “And your oath that you will sail with me?”

“Child,” Dulmea points out. “You haven’t actually asked for anything from that thing apart from it accompanying you, but you are swearing not to harm it.”

‘That’s because once I hand it over to the Shashalme, it’ll become their creature,’ Keris returns mentally. ‘It can’t resist an Unquestionable. All I need is to make sure it can’t run off until I get it there - which won’t take a full month.’ She pauses. ‘Also my oaths aren’t binding like its are,’ she adds. ‘And I don’t want to harm it in the first place. It’s not worth as much if it’s harmed.’

“Child,” Dulmea says wearily. “It can try to kill you. You cannot harm it at all - even in the _slightest_ way - without freeing it from its oath.”

‘I stuck a Haneyl-seed in it,’ Keris points out. ‘It can’t try to hurt me without crippling hunger. But good point, I suppose.’

“Swear to travel with me, serve me and in no way harm or work against me or my crew,” she says. “Then I will release you from your chains and send you to my ship.”

The fae seems to slump down. “You ask for so much,” it whines. “Promise that I shall not be harmed at the destination.”

Keris considers for a moment. If it were Ligier she were taking it to... but the Shashalme keeps slaves in luxury, adoring them for their generosity.

“I so swear,” she says. “You will come to no harm, and be showered in wealth.”

“Well, if you say so. So I swear,” it says. Keris can almost feel the urge of the addictive poison eating into its mind. It doesn’t know that she can provide more of what it _knows_ it needs, but it knows it needs something it can’t describe.

“Good,” Keris nods. A few quick strikes from Ascending Air part the chains, and she helps it to its feet. “Cissidy? Take our... guest, to my ship. Wait for me there,” she tells the raksha. “I will not be gone long.”

“I can’t go to your ship,” the raksha whines. “I have to travel with you.”

Keris stares at it. “I meant under my...” she starts, her eyes twitching slightly. “No, never mind. Fine. Can you at least become immaterial?”

“No,” the fae says. “I may be hurt, but all should see my beauty.”

Keris reminds herself - with some effort - that she needs it alive and unstabbed. “ _Fine_ ,” she grits out. “Mount up, then, and we’ll go.”

‘Go’, in this case, turns out to mean ‘move close enough to one of the settlements on the coast of Shuu Mua that Rounen can scurry into town immaterially to find out how many days Keris has lost in the interior, while Keris keeps the raksha where it won’t be seen by mortals’. Neither of them is terribly happy with this arrangement, but it’s the best compromise they can find.

Rounen coughs. “Uh, mum,” he says. “I don’t speak their language. Do you think they’ll have a book with the date in there somewhere?”

((Petal-cherubs speak Old Realm and Rivertongue, like Haneyl.))

“Argh,” Keris says. “They... no, they probably wouldn’t. Remind me to teach you some more languages while we’re in Malfeas, by the way.” She chews a hair tendril. “Fine. I’ll ask Sasi, and we’ll set off for the Isle of Gulls immediately.”

Another marlin-Messenger flits out to Boromono as ribbon-horse and riders set out across the sea. Keris is mildly annoyed that she won’t be able to make use of the greater speed that comes from Vali - and that she won’t be able to meditate, since she has to keep an eye on the raksha. But it is what it is.

It’s late at night, and that means Sasi answers quickly. Her glass fox leaps up onto Cissidy’s mane, head cocked alertly.

“Keris,” she says.

“Is... is this why you messaged me? Fine. Well, it is the twenty fourth of Rising Fire. Where have you been?”

“... doing things I can’t talk about right now,” Keris replies, switching to Rivertongue to make it harder for the raksha to listen. “I was in a Wyld Zone and couldn’t be sure how much time had passed. I’ll explain when I next see you.”

She does some quick mental maths. Given when the misbegotten left, they should be arriving... on or about the end of the month, under the new moon. It shouldn’t take her a full week to get them settled, so... “I should be able to come back to Malfeas with you, if you’re still going at the end of the first week of Crowning Fire. The Baisha is waiting at the Bu La Abyss.”

Sasi’s message comes back. “I am looking to still do that, if... if you are feeling better,” she says, awkwardly. “From what I have heard, several Navy vessels have been dispatched to hunt the Lintha. My heart bleeds for them, honestly.”

Keris smiles slightly, though she does send off a quick warning to Gajui Narooj that the hated Realm have grown to fear the Lintha enough that they are sending more ships to hunt for them, and that he should be wary of their dishonourable tricks. Then she settles down to some hard riding and thinking. She has about four or five days to work out a way to get the misbegotten from their drop-off point to the island.

Her best bet, she decides, is just to go the Lintha route. None of her ships are in sailing condition, but all she needs is something large and floating that can move. A couple of large sea-demons to tow medium-sized junks will do. Alas, she can’t summon a demon tonight - but at the end of the next night, Keris calls upon the magic of the Great Mother and calls a demon to serve her. The thing that comes is a great nautilus-like beast the size of an elephant, with a brassy shell and many eyes upon its many tendrils. She selects the least damaged of her two-masters and spends the day patching it up a little and setting up the tow-chains. She continues summoning demons for the next few nights on the island; this time sziromkeruby who she gives free run of the island. They can easily pass as minor servants of a mangrove goddess, and they’ll be able to keep an eye on things for her.

On the day the misbegotten are set to arrive, Keris’s ship slides out of the hidden harbour and carefully navigates the path through the snarling sargasso fields before sailing for the meeting point. The raksha is occupying a cabin with some of the drugs Keris has picked up here and there. The three petal cherubs - along with Rounen, who has been busily instructing them on their duties - are behind her.

It’s a little eerie, Keris has to admit. The ship has furled sails, and no oars propel it forward. She made sure that the attachment points for the tow chains are carefully concealed beneath the waterline. To the untrained eye, it looks like it’s just gliding through the water - perhaps propelled by the power of the mangrove-wreathed goddess at its prow.

The ship is not there. When Keris goes to look for it, fretting, it looks like it’s slightly behind schedule. It should arrive tomorrow, she estimates. If there’s anything else she wants to do to prepare, she has a chance now.

She starts by locking the raksha in its cabin. While Keris might be able to pass it off as another servant of Riyaah MuHiitiyah, it isn’t a hassle she wants to have to deal with. She makes sure it has enough drugs that it shouldn’t surface until she’s ready to go, at least. She takes advantage of the night to summon another sziromkerub, and then consults Dulmea and Calesco.

“Nearly time,” she breathes, chewing her lip. She’s made sure to get a good topsoil down on the island, and the climate is temperate and food is abundant, but... well, she’s still a little nervous at how the misbegotten will take it. She doesn’t want to disappoint them. Nor does she want her hidden harbour to fail. “Do you think it’ll work?”

“There are lots of ways it can go wrong,” Calesco says glumly. “The Realm might ruin it. Or the Lintha. Or the forces of Ululuya. Or...”

“I am not sure,” Dulmea says, interrupting Calesco. “It has potential, but I do not know enough about human survival here. It would certainly be on good grounds if they were demons.”

“Well,” Keris says, fiddling. “I guess we wait and see.”

She’s nervous enough that she spends most of the night on her outfit and appearance. She settles on a mixture of her shadow-guise and her Amulet to make her hair a curtain of red flowers and her fingers grey vines.

Her dress is something special even by her standards as Riyaah MuHiitiyah. Instead of her usual carnation-dress, Keris builds it up in careful layers - an underlayer of flowing water over skin like the dark silt of the seabed, with graceful roots winding through it and an outer sheath of leaves that cover most, but not all, of what’s under them.

From the reaction of the misbegotten, she is _awe-inspiringly amazing_ when she serenely appears, dressed in her layered dress which invokes her identity.

The captain unfortunately sees her, but from his slack-jawed expression he’s just as wowed as they are.

Darling Yellow is boosted up on the shoulders of her daughter, and the beaming look on her face makes Keris’ heart flutter.

“My priestess,” Keris greets Darling Yellow warmly. “I am glad to see you arrive. Come. Have your people board.” She turns her eyes to the captain and gives him a regal nod. “I thank you for bringing them here,” she tells him. “And I would ask that you say nothing of this to those who might snatch them back into poverty and hardship.”

The captain jerkily nods his head. “Yes, divine one,” he says. He seems to be staring at her dress. “Wouldn’t want your anger.”

Keris dismisses him with another nod and stands with her sziromkeruby while the misbegotten trundle off the ship they came on and onto hers; bringing their belongings with them.

“You are here,” Darling Yellow says weakly, as she is carried to Keris’ boat. She sounds like she is about to faint. “Some said that you would not. I told them you would be.”

Keris brushes a mangrove-root hand across her forehead, and settles down to give her another check-up. She’ll have to leave a demon to look after the old woman, she thinks. A stomach bottle bug, maybe - something to keep her health up.

“I said I would be here, and so I am,” she says. “Just as I said I would bring you to a new land, my priestess. I keep my promises.”

Once the transfer is done, they set sail. Or set tow. Or whatever it’s called when a demon is dragging the vessel.

Keris smiles to hear one of the petal cherubs trying to play with the misbegotten children. They can’t speak the same language, but it’s still trying to join in their games.

And then they approach the island.

((Stunt as appropriate to enable Keris’ Pres + (lower of Politics and Expression) roll to get a good first impression as they’re introduced to the island and ensure that there isn’t any dissent from people disassociated. You don’t want to fuck up this roll.))   
((Gulp. Bah, and Politics. Curses. Okay, hmm.   
3+1+2 stunt+4 Kimmy ExD+4 Compassion=14. I... don’t think I can boost this roll any higher? Urgh. Nerve-wracking. Oh, hang on, I’ll just TLA Darling Yellow so I can channel Compassion as sux rather than dice. So that makes it 10+4 autosux, if that’s valid.))   
((It also means that when Darling Yellow dies, it is going to hit Keris for MASSIVE DAMAGE.))   
((It is valid. What’s the context of the Principle?))   
((Platonic fondness and kinship for her priestess.))

From a distance, it’s difficult to see the harbour she’s carved out. Which is fully intentional; she designed it that way. But the changes she’s made to the isle by putting topsoil down are clearer, though it still looks rocky and cliff-bound. Keris hears a few mutterings among the crew as the ship glides along a curving path through the sargasso. A few exclamations from people looking over the side tell her that they’ve noticed the abundant fish and sealife in the water.

And then they slip into the harbour, which seems to appear almost out of nowhere when they pass the marotte-built sea wall. The walls rise up around them and from this angle, the interior of the island can be seen, groves of fruit trees and grey-green grass.

Keris looks back at Darling Yellow, feeling a swell of affection and caring for her loyal priestess. She wants to see the old woman’s eyes as she takes in her paradise.

“This is my gift to you,” she intones. “A land of plenty where you may live without the hardships you have known. Worship me; safeguard the ships in my harbour, and this place will be yours as long as the trees bear fruit.” She spreads her arms. “This island was once a desolate, barren rock. I brought life to it, as I now bring you to it. Remember my generosity, and honour my name.”

((Oh, TLA also boosts stunt rating by 1. So that’s 11+4 TLA autosux. 7+4=11 sux! Yay!))

Some of the women weep openly. So do the men. They look at the island - with its harbour and its plentiful fish and its stony structures and, yes, its seemingly wild crops, and they weep.

The vessel moves silently into shore, and the misbegotten more familiar with sailing moor it. They seem almost afraid to step ashore. As if it was all a grand illusion which will vanish, as if some demon or fairy has conjured it up to trick them into stepping into the deeps and drowning.

Keris helps Darling Yellow ashore herself. “Do you need my help settling here?” she asks quietly. “I must leave you again soon, but I can stay a short time before I leave.”

The priestess swallows. “Might you show me and my daughter all that you feel we should know about this place - and of course, where your shrine is set up?”

Keris agrees, and over the next couple of days she takes them on a comprehensive tour of the island, though she’s careful not to overtire Darling Yellow. She explains the protective sargasso ring; how it will snare ships that try to approach and how it teems with life that they can use for food. She also tells them that the sziromkeruby are her lesser servants, and will - bar Rounen - be staying to tend to the island and watch over the misbegotten.

Her shrine, she has them set up at the edge of the harbour, where anyone travelling up from the docks onto the island proper will have to pass it and pay their respects. She has a particularly good painting of her Riyaah MuHiitiyah guise for it, along with a few of Haneyl’s flowers, a locking cabinet for the petal-cherub’s stories and several beautifully embroidered wall hangings.

The last thing Keris makes sure to do, and the reason she stays for more than a day, is summon and bind two stomach bottle bugs after releasing the nautilus-demon. Introducing them to Darling Yellow and her daughter, she describes them as healers who will stay on the island to care for any who fall sick, and tend to Darling Yellow herself. In private, she makes quite clear to both sesseljae that Hell is not a topic on which they are to speak.

“Goddess,” Darling Yellow whispers. “Those are demons! From Hell!”

“They are,” Keris agrees quietly. “And I have taken them from their masters and bound them to my service. They will not harm you, or any others on this island.” She rests a hand on her priestess’s. “Even demons can, with time, earn redemption. I have given these two the chance, and forbidden them from preaching of infernal things. Placate them with alcohol, and they will tend to the hurts and sicknesses of your people loyally.”

Darling Yellow folds her hands in front of her. “Yes, divine one,” she says. “I will watch them and pray to you if they display their evil.”

Keris kisses her fondly on the forehead, cheeks and - lightly and chastely - lips. “I will trust this island to you and your daughter, my priestess. Live here happily, and with my blessings.”

As Keris makes a dramatic disappearance into the water, she hides herself and looks back. She hopes they will do well here. This island is larger than some of the other ones she’s seen - and certainly it’s better supplied. Hopefully her brave priestess will still be here after Calibration.

She returns to the Baisha. It’s not long until she has to return to Malfeas. Sasi joins her on the Baisha a few days later, flying in on an agata carrying her daughter on a sling. The raksha is, once again, locked in one of the spare cabins. Keris takes her to the bridge to explain her capture of it to Sasi and her officers. Together, they watch as the Baisha descends into the abyss, and begins the five day trip through secrets paths to the realm of Malfeas.


End file.
